San Joaquin Rhapsody
by MegDillon
Summary: A Nick Barkley romance where the rancher must break down some strong defenses (with a little help from his mother, bless her). Special thanks to Eire Rose for the character of Sarah who I lifted (quite liberally) from her story "The Glitter and the Gold." A/N: I appreciate all reviews!
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

Nick had shouted at her. She knew he could be loud and she had heard him shout before but never at her and the force of his anger left her stunned. Exasperated at the impasse they had reached, Nick had abruptly stopped the shouting, turned on his spurred heel, grabbed his hat and jacket, and left the house, seemingly in one movement. He slammed the front door on his way out for emphasis.

Had she shouted back at him? She couldn't remember but in her mind she had. She had stood up to him, pushed back in desperation. She felt she was walking through quicksand with Nick and with each step she sank a little deeper.

Without a conscious thought of what she was doing, she went to the coat rack by the grandfather clock, tied her bonnet onto her head, grabbed her wool coat, stepped out the front door, and started to walk home to town.

She had come to the ranch that morning under much happier circumstances – to help Glory foal – and it had all disintegrated into . . . this. Victoria and Jarrod had gone into town following lunch, perhaps for business and errands, as they said, or perhaps to give the couple some time alone. They would be returning soon enough and they would be a little surprised she wasn't staying for dinner. No matter, she thought, Nick would make an excuse for her and he would be relieved she was gone.

With thoughtfulness absent when she stepped out the door, she quickly realized she would need to take the old bridle path and not the road to town. On the road, she was likely to encounter the mother and the brother and she did not want to explain this to them.

The cold January air felt bracing and clarifying to her and the occasional raindrop matched her mood. Nick's shouts rang in her ears, his angry face imprinted in her mind's eye. As she stepped onto the bridle path and now truly out of sight from anyone on the ranch, she heard his words repeating in her head and they stung her. She remembered his accusations of cowardice and each word she recalled brought a wash of hot, salty tears.

No one else thought she was a coward; everyone told her how brave she was for remaining in California after her husband died. Custom and practicality would have her return to Ohio to live with her father but she had chosen to remain in California just as she and Sam had planned.

She felt she'd known Sam all her life and in a way she had. He was a school friend of her brother's and had been in her life since she was ten years old, maybe earlier.

With five older brothers there had always been a lot of boys coming and going at Judge Barrett's farm. There they had a pond with a rope swing, and woods to hide in, trees to climb, snakes and frogs and enough horses to stage races and play cowboy with the milking cows.

She always got along with the boys when allowed to play with them. For her there had also been piano lessons, helping Cook, and the dainty work she learned at school. A graduate of Corbett's Young Women's Seminary, she was adept at lace-making, embroidery, petit-point, as well as comportment, dance, more piano, etiquette, and she even learned to speak a little French. She loved piano and needlework and was particularly good at the latter as evidenced by her current vocation of making ladies' underpinnings embellished by her lace and fine stitches. There was nothing, however, she loved more than riding a fast horse: She loved the power and the intelligence of the animal and the wind in her face as the creature launched her forward over the earth. It felt like flying to her.

She and Sam had slipped into an easy companionship. He was kind and gentle and quiet but with an ambition and longing to match her own. And when at eighteen years old she graduated from the seminary, her father happily gave her away to Mr. Samuel E. Powell, second son of financier Josiah Powell and his wife, Mary. Then off the young couple went to California where Sam had a job with the San Francisco Fire Department. They were young, adventurous, and ambitious and they had each other.

Sam was an engineer specializing in fire safety and management and she brought in extra money doing piece-work for dressmakers. She developed a reputation for her fine work and soon enough she was working with the city's finest dressmakers and corsetieres.

Together, their savings grew and when their days off coincided they would peruse the papers for orchard land and they had countless half serious, half joking debates about what kind of fruit they would grow while Sam built his career in a nearby town.

And then there was the dreadful day when those men came to the apartment and told her. She stayed in San Francisco after Sam's death - Initially too numb with shock to do anything else and then because she couldn't think of a life different from the one she and Sam made together. Two years later, even the comfort of that life could not block out the crowds and dangers of the city and she looked for a smaller, more stable, community in which to root her widow life and amend the dream from a working orchard to maybe, one day, a small house with a few fruit trees in the yard.

Lost in her memories and walking briskly, Nick's shouting still echoing in her head, she hadn't noticed when the weather turned from cold and breezy to frigid and blustering with cold, cold rain falling in diagonal torrents. Suddenly, she became acutely aware of her thoughts as if she was no longer the author but an observer. Two men. Two very different men: Her companionable husband and the effusive cowboy; One dead and gone and the other very much alive and working so hard to pull her into his life.

She gasped aloud and stood still a moment, feeling she had been holding something tightly closed in her hand and now her fingers had been forced open to reveal something beautiful. As she continued walking towards home she could almost hear Sam's voice in the wind telling her to move on and live her life without him and she smiled.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1.

Audra Barkley had ordered six petticoats, four chemises, five pairs of pantaloons, three nightgowns, two corsets, and four corset covers for her upcoming trip to Europe. It was the largest order Emily had ever received from a single customer. She had been in Stockton only a few months and business had been slow but promising to start. She had few needs for herself and had dipped into her savings fund only twice to cover her costs.

Miss Barkley's order, while sizable in and of itself, also held the promise of more customers - such was the influence of her family. Emily thought Audra a very pretty girl if a little naïve and impetuous. And very talkative. But she was always pleasant and polite and Emily was glad to let her chatter on about herself. Emily had heard that Audra and her mother, the family matriarch, often dressed in trousers, especially when on their ranch, and Emily marveled at that. She was not shocked but rather amused by this. She admired the practicality of women in the West and their ability and willingness to do whatever needed to be done to survive and convention be damned. Emily found Audra's Western informality frankly refreshing.

Not that Audra had been completely self centered. She had asked, and Emily answered, questions about Emily's life and background: That Emily's husband had died in a fire in San Francisco, that she was from Ohio, that her father was a Federal judge there, and that two of her brothers were lawyers. Like her own brother, Jarrod, was a lawyer. In San Francisco. And also widowed. To Audra, it was a perfect match and she never failed to include something about Jarrod during her visits for fittings.

When Audra invited her to the Barkley Ranch for an informal luncheon, Emily readily accepted and without the deliberation she thought a widow should give such invitations. Later, she concluded this was a fine and acceptable way to introduce herself to local society. The Barkleys were well known and influential and she understood them to be good and gracious people, as well.

As planned, some of Audra's friends came by on Saturday morning in a surrey carriage to bring her along with them to the Barkley Ranch. There were two couples: One newly married, Emily learned, and the other a brother and a sister. The young ladies, particularly the sister, a tall blond named Susannah, seemed to eye Emily critically and it made her uncomfortable.

As they rode out of town and through the countryside, the young people told Emily of the vastness of the Barkley land and other holdings. Susannah especially seemed eager to tell her all about the family and Emily wished she could hear such things from Audra – or any member of the Barkley family – rather than Susannah. It sounded like gossip coming from her.

Audra was sorely disappointed when Jarrod wired from San Francisco the day before explaining his work would keep him there over the weekend and she couldn't help but confide to her mother about her secret plans for introducing her oldest brother to this newcomer.

"Is Mrs. Powell ready to consider courting again?" Victoria asked, entertained and not a little touched by her daughter's romantic and well meaning machinations.

"Well," Audra replied, "she hasn't said so but it's been two years!"

Victoria smiled. She was looking forward to meeting the woman. Audra had talked about her very favorably, describing her shy and quiet nature, her educated background, her gracefulness, and, of course, her accomplished father.

For her part, Emily half hoped and half dreaded but fully expected to meet Mrs. Barkley this day. Certainly, the matriarch of the clan was not someone to dismiss and Emily was fully braced to be evaluated and critiqued. She hoped she would pass the inspection.

The surrey arrived at the stately home and Emily noted how Susannah's demeanor shifted from relaxed to tense and watchful. As the young husband was helping the ladies from the surrey and onto the front porch, Audra emerged through the front door to greet her guests. Emily noted she was wearing a dress.

Audra welcomed all her guests, Emily included, with equal warmth and enthusiasm. This was clearly not a first visit for the others and they entered house unbidden. Emily could hear another woman inside greeting them by name and being addressed as Mrs. Barkley.

Audra linked her arm with Emily's and brought her inside. It was an informal gesture Emily wasn't prepared for but she accepted it as the custom Out West. Still, to exhibit such familiarity with a mere acquaintance was not done in Cincinnati society.

"Mother!," Audra called as they entered the house. Emily saw a slight woman approach them in confident strides. She was also wearing a dress and, aside from the gray hair, Emily thought she looked very youthful.

"Emily," Audra said, "this is my mother, Victoria Barkley. Mother, this is Mrs. Emily Powell."

Victoria stepped forward and took both of Emily's hands into hers and said, "Welcome to our home, Mrs. Powell. I am so glad you could come."

Emily felt immediate relief at being welcomed so warmly and, she sensed, sincerely, so it was easy for her to respond in kind, offering her gratitude for the invitation. She noted no pretense in Mrs. Barkley. Rather, the woman had a relaxed confidence in which Emily found some shelter from her own self-doubts.

A few other guests had already arrived and were seated in the front parlor. As wraps and hats were removed and carried away by an older gentleman in a white jacket, the newest arrivals made themselves at home with them. Victoria led Emily to a chair in the parlor and sat down beside her.

Emily overheard Susannah ask if Nick would be joining them and Audra said, yes, Nick and Heath would be there soon but Jarrod was in San Francisco. Emily knew Jarrod was Audra's brother but she wasn't entirely clear on the relationship of Nick and Heath to the family, only that she'd heard their names and that Heath's origins were somewhat scandalous to the family.

Soon, another small group arrived, also clearly familiar with the family and the house. Introductions were made and Emily found she'd already met Sarah through the dressmaking shop she and her mother, Ruth, had in town. The two shops had started referring customers to each other.

Victoria settled again into the chair beside Emily and asked her the usual questions about where she grew up (outside Cincinnati), did she have any family in California (none), about her family back home (five brothers, her mother died when she was three). Emily sensed Mrs. Barkley might be curious why she didn't return to her father's home as young widows often do, especially when their fathers are also widowed. So, Emily offered that her brother Frank had his horse ranch on land adjoining her father's farm and, in addition to Frank's wife, he also had a household staff to look after him.

Mrs. Barkley gave no indication of disapproval of Emily's decision to remain in California. She simply asked, "Is your father agreeable with you staying in California?"

Emily smiled. "My father says he will support whatever decision I make for my life," she replied.

"Your father sounds like a caring man," Victoria offered.

Emily adored her father and it shone in her eyes when she spoke of him. She said, "He is, Mrs. Barkley. He is very caring and quite wise."

The front door opened and three slightly dusty, slightly sweaty men entered the house and each in turn flung a cowboy hat on the table and, without breaking stride, approached the front parlor.

Victoria stood and Emily followed suit.

"Nick, Heath, I'd like you to meet Mrs. Emily Powell. I believe you know everyone else," Victoria said. She then turned to face Emily and added, "Mrs. Powell, these are my sons, Nick," gesturing towards the tallest one with black hair and black leather vest and then to the blond in the tan trousers, "and Heath." Gesturing to the third man, she said, "And this is Carl Wheeler, a friend of the family." Each one, in turn, nodded to Emily, "Mrs. Powell," "Ma'am," "Ma'am."

Audra asked the men if they'd been to see them and Heath answered, "Yep, and we got our work cut out for us."

Audra then announced to the assembled group that the men had captured three mustangs the day before and Victoria suggested the men should wash up before luncheon.

With that, the three men started up the staircase. A rather elegant stair case, Emily thought, and a bit incongruous to the three dirty cowboys upon it, and Nick's spurs jangling. Emily wondered what damage those spurs must do to the floors of the fine house. She was amused by the sight but reasoned the staircase fit with the elegance of her hostess and this was, after all, a working ranch.

Lunch was a lively affair with Mrs. Barkley presiding at the head of the table. Emily was seated to her right and watched and listened intently.

She noted Audra's attentions focused on Mr. Wheeler seated directly across from her. She saw Heath's attentions to Sarah, seated next to him, and thought they looked very sweet together. She also noted that Susannah had made sure to sit next to Nick and asked too many questions. They were too many questions because Nick, though polite, seemed disinterested in giving fully considered responses. His interests, Emily noted, were in getting everyone's attention when he talked about catching the mustangs, which he did by talking loudly.

Emily found the group dynamic most diverting and followed it closely. At one point, she turned to find Mrs. Barkley looking at her, smiling, as though she, too, found the interactions entertaining.

By the end of the meal, the group consensus was to ride to the corral some distance from the house to see the mustangs.

Victoria noted the disquiet on Emily's face as Emily debated whether she should join them, whether she was even invited to join them. Victoria reached out and covered Emily's left hand with her right and addressed the table, "Perhaps Mrs. Powell will join you as I don't think there are any wild mustangs in Ohio."

There was some polite laughter and Nick let out a loud, "Ha!"

"I would love to see the mustangs!" Emily stated cheerily. And it was true.

The men left to get their hats and to ready the buckboard to carry some of the guests out to the corral. Other guests would ride.

The day was sunny and Emily found her way to the front parlor to retrieve her hat, a straw affair with a wide brim and a wide blue ribbon to anchor it to her head. The other women were already bonneted and leaving the house. Only Mrs. Barkley remained nearby in the front parlor, straightening up, when Nick strolled in, spurs announcing him as he walked over to the front table where he'd tossed his hat earlier and retrieved the gloves he had also deposited there.

"Oh, Nick!" Mrs. Barkley exclaimed, "I would so love to have Mrs. Powell's advice on some sewing which is giving me trouble. Would you wait for us and accompany her to the corral? I won't be but five minutes."

Nick immediately responded with, "Certainly, Mother! I'll meet you at the stables." He tipped his hat to Emily and left the room.

Emily sensed this was a ruse to create some distance between Susannah and poor Nick and she was perfectly fine with being used for the purpose.

Following Victoria into what Emily would describe as a billiards room, she asked her hostess if she would be joining them at the corral.

"Oh, heavens, no!" Victoria said. "I've seen my fair share of mustangs."

And broken a few of them, too, Emily thought with admiration.

"And have you broken any?" She ventured to ask.

Victoria stopped and looked at her pretty young guest. "I've broken a few, yes," she said, smiling conspiratorially.

Emily found Mrs. Barkley's sewing challenges to be rather simple to remedy and might have wondered why they were challenges at all but figured women who break mustangs, build cattle empires, and raise polite and obedient children are not necessarily also adept at all the arts of homemaking.

With her hat tilted forward over her face to shield her eyes and face from the sun as well as to accommodate the braid pinned high at the back of her head, Emily followed Mrs. Barkley out to the stables. Nick was leaning against the corral fence, talking amiably with an older Hispanic man. Two saddled horses stood close by, a chestnut gelding with palomino blood and a beautiful black mare. Nick saw the women approach and began walking over to them.

"Oh, Blackie!" Mrs. Barkley exclaimed before Nick reached them, "she's an excellent choice for Mrs. Powell!"

Nick and Victoria watched as Emily walked over to the black mare, patted her neck, and spoke to her in tones too soft for them to hear.

Nick turned to his mother and explained that all the sidesaddles were being used. Victoria responded by nodding her head at Blackie and when Nick turned to look, he saw Emily in mid-mount, her left foot planted in the stirrup, right leg in mid-air, her green calico skirt in a semi circle behind her.

Nick turned back to his mother to give her a look of astonishment as Emily leaned forward, patting Blackie's neck, still talking to her. He walked over and, without a word, cinched the stirrups up for a better fit, then shook his head, and mounted Coco. Emily clicked to spur Blackie toward Nick and Coco as though she had been riding her whole life, which, in fact, she had.

"Where d'you learn to ride like that?" Nick asked, puzzled.

"I grew up on a farm," she replied.

"Thought your father was a judge," Nick said, his tone sounding much more gruff than he intended.

"He's a judge with a farm," Emily thought the rude comment deserved an equally terse response.

Victoria turned to go back into the house, smiling to herself and feeling triumphant.

Nick pointed out the trail they would be taking.

Once clear of the ranch and facing a long stretch of trail, Emily, asked, "Does she gallop?"

"'Course she gallops!" Nick exclaimed. Then he slowed, and smiling, extended his arm to invite her to ride ahead of him.

Emily clicked Blackie into a canter and up to a full gallop till they reached the top of a small incline and stopped, waiting for Nick,

Nick watched as the seemingly proper young widow – a judge's daughter, no less – let her guard down to engage in a full-on race with the wind, demonstrating some of the finest horsemanship he'd seen in a woman.

When he caught up with her at the crest of the small hill, she was smoothing her skirts back down over her black stockings. There was pink in her cheeks and long wisps of brown curls which had escaped her tightly secured braided bun.

She smiled as he approached, looked up at the cloud speckled blue sky and said, "Oh, Mr. Barkley, I haven't had this much fun in a very long time!"

He watched her as she surveyed the horizon from all directions. Looking east, she raised her arm, and pointed at the snow-capped peaks in the far distance.

"Are those the Sierra Nevada?" she asked.

"Yep," was all he answered and he continued to watch her take in the scenery. She stopped when she realized she was being watched.

"You know, Mr. Barkley," she explained, "Ohio is very, very pretty. But it isn't breath-taking and it isn't majestic."

As they traveled on at a more relaxed pace, Nick pointed out to her the features of the land around them and did not miss the opportunity to mention that his family owned much of what she saw. When he mentioned the Barkley orchards to the southeast, she gasped.

"You have orchards?" she said. "What kind of orchards?"

Nick told her of the fruit and other crops they grew and saw her genuine interest. She explained how she and her husband had wanted to plant an orchard but hadn't settled on what kind of fruit or nut trees were most profitable.

They continued talking about crops and harvests and markets till they reached the corral where the others were gathered against the outside of the fence in a circle. They dismounted, tied the horses, and parted ways as they joined the group.

Audra approached Emily to be near her guest and to talk about the horses. Nick didn't stay in one spot very long as he wanted to view the animals from all angles.

At a spot directly opposite where Emily stood talking with Audra, Nick noted how small she looked standing next to his sister: Not a great deal shorter, but thinner, delicate even, and it occurred to him that a strong wind could probably knock her to the ground.

Sarah moved around the corral to talk with Emily and Heath was not far behind.

Sarah was kind and sweet and Emily was grateful for her effort. She remarked how glad she was that Emily could join the group that day and Emily sensed a kinship with the young woman who she understood was also new to the valley and was also shy.

When Heath joined them, Emily asked him about the horses and found the quiet young man more than happy to share what he knew about the horses – but not much more.

The group traveled back to the house en masse, Audra taking the lead, talking and laughing with whoever was riding next to her, usually Carl Wheeler. Nick and Heath took up the rear, keeping watch over the group and talking with each other in an easy manner which Emily thought spoke to mutual trust and respect. The quality of their friendship from her vantage point at that moment reminded her of Sam and a fresh wave of grief swept over her.

Stable hands greeted the group as they arrived and dismounted. Heath offered his assistance to Emily as she climbed down from Blackie. She didn't think she needed it, really, but it had been years since she'd ridden a horse and she was at once loathe to dismount and feeling the after effects as soon as her feet touched the earth.

A stable hand came to lead Blackie away. Emily wanted to curry the girl herself but looked around to see no one else was attending to the horse they rode. She patted the mare's neck and thanked her for a lovely afternoon.

After she watched Blackie being led into the stable, Emily noticed she was the last of the group still outside. Everyone else had gone into the house, except Nick who stood alone by the corral gate, waiting for her. He opened the gate for her and followed her into the house without saying a word.

Emily found the group in varying stages of drinking lemonade, donning wraps and jackets, and thanking Audra and Mrs. Barkley for the luncheon. Emily located the couples she had arrived with and was relieved to see them preparing to leave.

She crossed the room to Mrs. Barkley and thanked her for the lunch and told her how nice it was to meet her. Victoria told her that she hoped to see her again soon and Emily felt the comment was sincere.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2

Audra continued to visit Emily's shop for fittings and discussions of details and embellishments. Emily found Audra a bountiful source of information and insight to the social dynamics of Stockton's younger residents. Yes, it was gossip but Emily determined that Audra didn't have a malicious bone in her body and also Emily did not have to ask a lot of questions to get a lot of information from her.

Emily learned that Sarah and Heath were sweethearts and everyone who knew them hoped there would be a wedding soon. She learned that Carl was sweet on Audra and that Audra was seriously considering a courtship but had some wanderlust of her own to explore before she was willing to make a commitment.

Audra continued to tell Emily about her brother, Jarrod, the attorney with an office in San Francisco, and about his wife and her tragic death.

Emily asked after Mrs. Barkley and the mustangs and Audra kept her apprised of all the social events in the valley.

Standing in the private dressing area of Emily's shop, modeling a petticoat, Audra stated, "There's a dance this Saturday at the Cattlemen's Association." Then she asked, "Are you going?"

Emily was kneeling on the floor, carefully pinning another row of lace to the petticoat and was so taken aback by the question that all she could say in response was "No." She busied herself with her task, giving it far more focus than it needed.

"Well, why not?!" Audra asked, staring down at the slight woman on the floor.

When Emily didn't give an immediate response, Audra added, "You don't have to have a date to go to these dances. Most people just show up."

Emily knew that was something she would never do and it wasn't out of social convention but her own shyness which made simply being at parties difficult for her, never mind showing up alone. She would sooner lay herself down on a bed of nails than be at a party by herself.

"You can come with me and Carl if that would make it more comfortable for you," Audra offered. She had a kind heart and Emily was touched by the offer.

She rose to her feet and felt blood warming her cheeks. "Audra," she explained, "I'm afraid I'm just not one for parties these days." She added the "these days" to give weight to her reluctance.

Audra felt terrible and apologized profusely, assuming Emily was still too grief-stricken to engage in anything as happy as a dance.

Emily said nothing and went back to pinning her handmade lace to Audra's new petticoat.

As Audra's garments were completed, they were kept at Emily's small shop until such time as Audra, or another Barkley or Barkley hand, stopped by to bring them back to the ranch.

There had been another dance, this one at the community church Emily sometimes attended and a few days later, Nick stopped in to see if there was anything to deliver to his sister.

Emily noticed that he didn't seem as ill-at-ease as other men who came into her shop. Not that she had ladies' underpinnings on display but there was a lot of delicate lace, ribbon, frills, and pale, pretty, fabrics filling the space.

Emily opened a cabinet under the counter and brought up two packages which she placed in front of him. They were wrapped in white paper and tied to each other with pale pink satin ribbon.

She expected Nick to grab the bundle and leave but instead he lingered a moment, looking down while he smoothed the white paper under his black glove.

"I didn't see you at the dance. You have something against dancing?" He asked.

She shook her head and laughed a little. "Not at all,' she said, looking directly at him. "Truth is, I am not comfortable in large groups of any kind. I never have been." For some reason, she felt comfortable being forthright with the man.

He considered her response for a moment and remembered how prim and proper she was at Audra's luncheon and how relaxed and happy she became when riding Blackie out to the corral with him.

"Well, maybe we'll have you out to the ranch to go riding again," he offered, expecting her to jump at the chance.

"I would like that," she said without much conviction.

He was about to name a day and time but saw her cheeks flame red and decided not to force the issue for now.

"I'll talk to my mother and you can make arrangements with her," he said, thinking it would ease Mrs. Powell's discomfort if the offer came from his mother instead. It did.

"That would be lovely, Mr. Barkley," she said, smiling.

"Nick," he offered.

"Emily," she countered.

"Emily," he repeated.

Nick gathered Audra packages and headed to the door, turning to say, "I'll speak with Mother about getting you and Blackie back together, Emily," and he smiled and left.

Emily was cross with herself for blushing and being so awkward at Nick's invitation to go riding. Of course, she'd love to go riding but realized she had felt awkward because she didn't know if the invitation came from Nick, representative of the family, or from Nick the man and she chided herself for presuming it may have been the latter.

Nick had no intention of asking his mother. He wanted to go riding with Emily alone and he wanted to know more about her, this beautiful young widow whose father was a judge, who rode as well as any cowboy, and who, from what Heath had told him, knew horseflesh very well. And who, Nick noted, was so painfully shy.

An uncommonly mild February gave way to a windy early March which changed itself into a warm and calm early Spring.

Emily lingered at the church's Easter picnic to talk with an expanding circle of acquaintances, the Barkleys included, especially Mrs. Barkley. Nick and Heath were nowhere to be seen and Emily had left by the time Audra could bring Jarrod over to meet her new friend.

Mrs. Barkley stopped by the shop a few times, to add to Audra's order or collect a completed one. She was always warm and friendly and Emily was happy to see her but Mrs. Barkley never once mentioned having Emily out to the ranch to go riding.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 3.

Emily finished all of Audra's garments and Audra was delighted with them. Moreover, she was getting very excited about her trip to Europe with family friends from Philadelphia. There would be a train ride to their home and from there, they would travel together to New York City. Then, they would travel by ship over the Atlantic Ocean to England where they would make their base. There were plans to visit Paris and Florence and Rome as well as London.

A Bon Voyage party at the Barkley home was planned with champagne and dancing, and at dinner one night, the family discussed who should be invited. When Audra mentioned Mrs. Powell, Victoria was enthusiastic but Nick said, "I don't think she'll come. She told me she doesn't like large gatherings."

"Oh?" Victoria asked, curious what else Nick knew about her.

Audra nodded in agreement and added, "She's really quite shy. Why, she hasn't been to any dances!"

"Well," Victoria commented, weighing her words carefully, "perhaps a community dance is a little too, uh, young and cheerful. Perhaps a more formal event with an invitation from me might help draw her out."

Jarrod agreed that the dances Audra mentioned were generally aimed at helping couples meet. This event had an entirely different purpose.

The invitation was issued, delivered, and received, and Emily thought long and hard, trying to find an acceptable excuse not to go. All those people! And she only had a nodding acquaintance with a few of them. Her dilemma lay in knowing this was a very good way for her to continue to meet Stockton society, make some friends perhaps, expand her business even. With a knot in her stomach, she sat down and wrote her letter of response, accepting the invitation.

Emily opened a trunk of clothes she didn't wear every day. On top lay the black and gray dresses of mourning and looking at them brought back all the pain of the days and weeks and months following Sam's death. She lifted them out, placed them on the bed, and returned to the trunk. There she found a small assortment of fancier dresses from her trousseau and wondered if they even fit her anymore.

She selected a gown of heavy lavender silk with enough flounces and gathers to be appropriate for Audra's party but not so frilly as to be too youthful or risqué. She never was one for being showy anyway. And it still fit. It fit differently but it fit. She kept it out for airing and put the mourning clothes back on top and closed the trunk.

The next day, she went to the Post Office and there was a letter from her father waiting for her. The days she got letters from family were her favorite days. She stepped out of the Post Office and saw Nick standing on the sidewalk, leaning against a post. He tipped his hat to her.

"Good morning!" he said, "Mind if I walk with you?"

"Of course not," she replied as he fell in step with her. She was glad to see him. He seemed a nice man and she was fascinated by his work.

They exchanged some pleasantries before Nick stopped, looked at her and said, "I'm glad you're coming to Audra's party."

Before she could think of a courteous response, Emily felt herself blushing deeply and she was helpless to stop it.

"If you'd like, that is, if it would be all right with you, well, I can escort you to the party and be nearby at all times, discreetly, so you don't feel . . . awkward."

It was just about the kindest thing anyone had ever done for her. Thoughts of a rumored romance flickered through her head but were quickly extinguished by the relief of the offer. She waited a moment before composing her response so he wouldn't see the extent of her gratitude.

"Mr. Barkley," she started.

"Nick," he corrected her.

"Nick, I would appreciate that very much, thank you."

He arrived at her shop in a surrey and once seated explained that they would be bringing a few other guests to the party. Emily didn't let on how relieved she was not to be seen alone with him. She didn't know it, but this was no accident on his part.

Once inside the house, Nick helped remove her wrap and brought her a glass of champagne and only after she'd had a good taste did he bring her into the midst of the throng of party guests.

Jarrod crossed the room to make her acquaintance and Nick introduced them. Jarrod mustered all his urbane charm and had her attention. One glance at Nick's face and he took it down a notch. Not that Emily noticed. Victoria had been watching and she did notice. She approached them and pre-empted any further rivalry between her sons by assuming Nick's role as escort and using her own as hostess, greeting Emily warmly and taking her by the arm and introducing her to other guests. Emily felt herself begin to relax under Mrs. Barkley's patronage, the knot in her stomach loosened and she started to enjoy meeting so many people at one time.

Nick and Jarrod were watching their mother lead Emily into the crowd when Jarrod turned to Nick and said, "So that's the judge's daughter who knows horseflesh and rides like a cowboy? She seems a very nice young woman."

Nick was still watching Emily and looked back at Jarrod only long enough to grunt. Jarrod was momentarily stunned by his brother's lack of verbal challenge and concluded it was perhaps best to stay out of Nick's way with this one.

Nick followed his mother and Emily into crowd in order to remain close by should Emily start to flounder, though it did not appear that would happen.

Jarrod was chatting with distinguished guests when Victoria approached with Emily.

"Mrs. Powell, may I introduce Mr. and Mrs. Williams of Washington DC" Victoria said. "Mr. and Mrs. Williams, this is Mrs. Powell, who is new to Stockton." Pleasantries were exchanged and then Victoria mentioned that Mrs. Powell's father was a Federal judge in Ohio, Andrew Barrett.

Mr. Williams exclaimed, "THE Judge Barrett from Ohio?!"

Emily nodded.

"Then your brother would be George Barrett, aide to Senator Thurman!"

Emily smiled brightly, clearly proud of her brother, "One and the same, Mr. Williams."

"A fine young man! A fine young man!"

Jarrod caught Nick's eye from across several people. They had both heard, Jarrod impressed and Nick intrigued by the political connections of this new family friend.

Audra had been busy chatting with guests, her countenance bright, almost giddy. Emily sought and found an opportunity to wish her safe and happy travels. Audra was polite but clearly preoccupied and her attentions were briskly redirected elsewhere. Emily smiled serenely, hoping it would tame her growing dread, and began to turn away, the knot in her stomach tightening as she realized she could not see either Nick or his mother. Before she could actually panic, however, she felt a hand on her elbow and Nick's voice above her ear. "Let's move out of the crowd, shall we?"

He moved her to the periphery of the room where others were engaging in quieter socializing.

"Thank you," she whispered to him.

Nick smiled and picked up two glasses of champagne from a passing tray. Handing her a glass, Nick said, "So your brother is an aide to United States Senator Thurman?"

"My brother George, yes," she responded. She was smiling and watching the party. Nick was watching her.

"You have other brothers?" he asked.

She looked at him. "Why, yes. I have four other brothers."

"Four – YOU HAVE FIVE BROTHERS?" he said loud enough for people to stop talking and look at them.

Emily laughed. She delighted in having five brothers and was always a little surprised that other people didn't naturally know this about her, like it should be emblazoned on her forehead or something. It was that much a part of who she was.

"Any sisters?"

She shook her head, "No."

They stood side by side, watching the party together, and Nick settled in next to her, "And what do these brothers do? And where?"

Emily loved talking about her brothers and turned to him. He looked at her face and knew he had just struck conversational gold.

"My oldest brother, William, is an attorney in Cincinnati. George is next. He lives in Washington, DC, of course. Frank breeds horses – "

"You have a brother who's a horse breeder," he repeated to be sure. This piece of information explained a lot, he thought.

She nodded. "John is a banker in Columbus and Paul is studying theology at Yale."

"And you're the youngest," he guessed.

She nodded again.

Nick was almost as intrigued by this brood of accomplished if disparate siblings as Emily was happy to talk of them, her affection for them obvious.

There was a loud rhythmic chiming of glasses and Jarrod, standing a few steps above the crowd on the staircase, made a short speech about his sister, wishing her a safe trip and fun travels. Audra joined him on the step and the guests joined the family in raising their glasses in a toast to Audra.

Soon after, the music started. Nick held his arm out to Emily and asked, "May I have this dance?"

A shadow fell over her face as she hesitated, afraid of rumors but chiefly concerned that dancing may not yet be socially acceptable in her widowhood.

Nick nodded towards the floor, smiling, arm still extended to her, "Come on!"

With slow care, she placed her arm on his and followed the few short steps to what was now the dance floor.

For a cowboy, he was a good dancer and while she enjoyed dancing very much, she knew she would have to be cautious not to dance the rest of the evening and not with one man only.

She need not have worried for they were soon interrupted by another, older gentleman asking to dance with her and Nick acquiesced, his manner polite and gracious and, Emily thought, a little eager.

When the dance was finished and another begun, Emily thanked the older man as he escorted her to a small group engaged in discussion for which she feigned knowledge and interest. To the casual observer, her efforts may have gone undetected but not to the man who now approached her as a lilting waltz began.

"Mrs. Powell, I would be honored to share this dance with you," Jarrod said, offering his arm and she accepted.

Jarrod was a very good dancer and Emily loved to waltz.

"You know," he said as they swirled about the floor, "I don't know who's more taken with you, my mother or my brother, Nick."

Emily did not ignore the comment about Nick as much as she failed to hear it, so flattered was she that a woman such as Victoria Barkley would favor her.

"Your mother is a remarkable woman, Mr. Barkley," she said.

"Jarrod," he said.

"Jarrod, I am honored she would consider me at all," she offered.

Further pleasantries were exchanged and information gleaned about Judge Barrett and the political connections of Emily's family. As the dance ended, Jarrod told her that he hoped she might come visit the ranch and keep his mother company during Audra's absence. And then he delivered her to Nick.

The party wound down and Emily silently thanked God for champagne. But she had not been out this late for a long time and now she was tired. She was relieved to hear the guests with whom she and Nick arrived had children they were eager to get home to and they were brought to their home first.

Nick had been too preoccupied to notice earlier in the evening but now as he helped Emily down from the carriage in front of her shop he knew his hunch was right: a strong wind probably would knock her to the ground.

"Mr. Bar – Nick, thank you so much for your care and attention tonight. I had a lovely time and credit that mainly to you," she said, warmly.

They stood silent for a brief moment in front of her shop but before he had a chance to consider a kiss, Emily stood on tiptoe and offered him a chaste kiss on the cheek, then quickly retreated into her shop and home.

He remained still for a long while, making sure she got a lantern lit, recalling the scent of her hair, the depth of her blue-gray eyes, the feel of her lips on his cheek, and thought to himself, "I'm a goner."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 4.

Following Audra's Bon Voyage party, Emily received a flurry of social invitations, many of which she accepted, particularly the young ladies' recitals, teas, and a request to join a committee concerned with city beautification. And when she returned home from these events, she would congratulate herself, then, sigh with relief to be home and alone. The social outings got a little easier, as she knew they would, and her new social life gave her something to write about in her letters to her father, alleviating his concern for his shy daughter, as she knew it would.

By mid-April, a few weeks after Audra's departure, Victoria Barkley paid a visit to Emily's shop and invited her to tea at one of Stockton's finer restaurants. Emily gladly accepted, donning hat and gloves, and closing shop for the rest of the day.

Emily asked after Audra, how excited she was, and had the family heard from her yet. Victoria was relaxed and kind and was greeted by the restaurant staff with the kind of attention given to favored customers.

The two women talked about local and personal news and Mrs. Barkley asked her to call her Victoria. That, alone, made Emily feel welcomed by this important woman.

Victoria asked her about Sam and Emily recounted how she'd known Sam since childhood, his engineering interest in how fires can be prevented, contained, and stopped. How he had died in cannery fire by the waterfront after they'd been married four years. She hadn't shared her story with anyone in its entirely before because most of the people who knew her knew the story already. It almost felt like she was hearing it for the first time herself.

"You must have been very young when you married," Victoria observed.

Emily nodded. "I was eighteen and Sam was twenty three."

Victoria did the math: Married four years, widowed for two. Emily was twenty-four years old.

"And you moved to California after your marriage?" Victoria remarked.

"Yes, immediately after. Sam was offered a position with the San Francisco Fire Department. He had worked with the Cincinnati Fire Department which helped to pioneer the science of fire fighting," Emily explained.

"Nick tells me you were planning on acquiring orchard land," Victoria was smiling at her and Emily smiled back, remembering the dream.

"We were in San Francisco for two years or so before we started talking about buying land. We had our sights set on the Santa Clara Valley where there's good orchard land and enough towns that Sam could continue his work," then she laughed a little, "But we never did agree on what exactly we would grow: pears of oranges or lemons or cherries, maybe walnuts or almonds"

"You worked," Victoria, indicating an interest in what Emily was doing those four years since there were no children from the marriage.

Emily nodded. "I took in piece-work to augment our savings towards buying land."

"And did well enough to create your own business," Victoria added, knowing this young woman did more than just take in piece-work. Emily may have started with piece-work but she was no common seam sewer, she was an artist.

Emily nodded, a slight blush rising in her cheeks.

"And after Sam died, you chose not to return to Ohio," Victoria added.

Emily lowered her head and said a quiet "no." Then her demeanor shifted and she looked at Victoria and explained, "It was my dream and it was Sam's dream to come to California. I am sad and sorry that Sam was not able to . . . but I want . . . to . . . find out what's here for me. Ohio is always an option but I am here now."

Victoria smiled because she understood very well. Despite her shyness, the young woman had the determination to succeed Out West. Whether she had the grit remained to be seen.

Victoria placed her hand on Emily's and said, "Emily, thank you for sharing your story with me. I'll share a bit of mine, that is, things you may not have already heard," and she smiled. So Victoria shared the highlights - and the lows – of her own life, of Tom, of building the ranch. She also told her about Heath.

"Victoria, I already know about Heath," Emily offered. "People are quick to share such information about others and this, I think, is the moment to tell you how much I admire and respect you for your response to the situation. I believe children should never pay for their parents' transgressions and I also believe that love, more than blood, makes a family."

Victoria escorted Emily back to her shop. Before leaving, Victoria said that she and her son, Nick, were planning to ride out to check progress on their orchards and Victoria thought perhaps Emily would like to accompany them. Emily accepted the invitation.


	6. Chapter 6

**Vignette. Home.**

Her tiny home was her refuge: A narrow storefront on a side street, the front serving as her shop with a kitchen in the back whose main occupant was a wood stove which the heated the upstairs through a vent in the ceiling. There was a small bathroom with a toilet across from the kitchen and it contained the only sink.

Between the storefront and the kitchen, under the staircase, she created a lush, curtained, room for her customers' private fittings. The storefront had one counter and countless shelves and drawers lining its walls. A sewing machine sat diagonally in a back corner. There was a bell on the front door.

She didn't spend much time in the upstairs room except to sleep and dress. She kept a small table in the kitchen. Or, rather, half in and half out of the kitchen, for there wasn't room to contain both it and the wood stove. There was just enough room to fit one chair at the table.

She prized her rocking chair even though it didn't look quite right in the shop where she placed it. But she felt she did her best work in it and its rocking motion gave her comfort.

The rocking chair was purchased when she and Sam first arrived in San Francisco in anticipation, presumption even, that there would be a baby. But there was never a baby; there was never even a hint of a baby.

"Just as well," she thought now. Had there been children she had no doubt she would have returned to her father's home in Ohio and would have been gladly welcomed. She could not imagine how she would have survived Out West as a single woman with little ones to feed and clothe and protect.

So she would rock and hum while she tatted and still the rocker to create the tiny even stitches which also brought her solace.

Chapter 6.

As arranged by a note delivered by a Barkley Ranch hand, Nick arrived at Emily's shop one Saturday morning with the buggy. He knocked at the door before entering, making the bell chime and announcing his arrival. He realized he had not seen her since the Bon Voyage party and thought she was more beautiful in everyday clothes than she was in shimmering silk.

She chose a black wool skirt, longer in back and forming a small train behind her (to accommodate the fashionable bustle which she rarely wore, finding it cumbersome and awkward) and underneath she had pulled on a pair of brown woolen riding breeches she brought with her from Ohio which were now a little snug. She wore a plain white cotton blouse and her waist was cinched with a black leather belt. She had her straw hat with the blue ribbon, her gloves, and a dark blue knitted shawl at the ready.

In her happy excitement to go riding, she beamed at Nick. "Good morning, Nick! Can I offer you some coffee or shall we be on our way?" Why was it so easy to talk to him?

"There's plenty of coffee at the house, let's go!" he responded, matching her mood and slapping his hand on the counter for emphasis.

He turned to go and was holding the door open for her while she hung back, tying the hat's ribbon under her chin, the shawl already on her shoulders, and the gloves tucked into her belt. She then quickened her steps to leave, making sure the sign in the window read "CLOSED."

As Nick helped her into the buggy, she asked, "Do I get to ride Blackie again?"

"Sure," he said, "unless you wanna help break in one of the mustangs."

"Hmm, "she pretended to consider, "I think I'll decline the offer, but thank you all the same."

Nick laughed as he climbed into the buggy and took the reins. There were few people out and about this early and the morning was promising a beautiful day. To Emily, all felt right in the world at that moment.

They had gone a few blocks in silent sunlight when Emily asked, "Nick? How do you break a mustang?"

He laughed and looked over at her and saw she was not joking but quite serious and was expecting a serious response.

"You wanna know how to break a mustang? He asked.

"Yes. I do."

"Are you planning on catching one for yourself?" He was smiling, teasing her.

"No," she continued, solemn and sincere, "I'm curious how you break a mustang, a wild horse. Really."

If asking about Emily's brothers at Audra's party had revealed a passion in her, asking Nick about the capture and breaking of mustangs did the same to him.

They spent most of the ride to the house with Nick explaining about the history of mustangs in California, about choosing, catching, breaking, and training them. Nick talked about the importance of being honest and building trust with the animal. Emily asked thoughtful questions as they occurred to her and responded with appreciated enthusiasm to Nick's stories of past equine conquests.

By the time they reached the stable, the morning sun was warm enough for Emily to remove the shawl and she and Nick walked side by side to the house. He held the door for her and, as she entered, she scanned the front parlor for Victoria but saw no one.

"Mother! MOTHER!" Nick shouted from where he was standing just behind Emily. She jumped at the volume and suddenness of his outburst and suppressed giggling at herself. If Nick noticed her startled reaction, he didn't acknowledge it.

Victoria strode in from the dining area wearing gaucho slacks and a gaucho hat. She ignored Nick and held her arms out to Emily, embracing her.

"Emily!"

Jarrod entered from what the family called The Gun Room, what Emily wished they would rename The Billiards Room, and welcomed her, as well.

"I understand you're off to the orchards today," he said, "Maybe teach Nick a thing or two about fruit propagation."

"I doubt that very much," Emily said.

"Well, much as I'd love to join the three of you, I have work to do on a case which I am finding stimulating, if challenging," Jarrod explained.

"Civil or criminal?" asked Emily.

"Ah! Civil," said Jarrod, adding, "I imagine you're not unaccustomed to seeing men chained to their law books."

"Indeed," she said, smiling, "I am not."

Nick cleared his throat and Victoria stepped in and took Emily by the arm, leading her into the kitchen while explaining that Heath was with the herd that day.

In the kitchen, Silas was putting wrapped food items into saddlebags.

"I thought we would enjoy a picnic while we're out," Victoria said.

Before Emily could offer a response, Victoria turned to her and asked, "You've met Silas, haven't you?"

"No, we have not been formally introduced," said Emily and she turned toward the older gentleman.

"Emily, this is Silas, an old, dear friend of the family. He works for us," Victoria said, "And Silas, this is Mrs. Emily Powell, late of Ohio and San Francisco."

"Nice to meet you, Miz Powell," Silas offered, almost shyly.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, as well, Silas," said Emily, smiling.

Just then, Nick strode into the kitchen and out the door towards the stables, announcing loudly as he passed through that they should "get going."

Victoria closed her eyes for a moment, looked at Silas, and shook her head.

"Nick?" Victoria called after him and he reappeared at the back door. "Nick, I promised Mrs. Wells I would bring her some books today and that I wouldn't be later than three o'clock." Victoria looked at Emily and explained that Mrs. Wells was one of the valley's older residents and was not able to get out much anymore. Emily accepted this as a gentle suggestion that she should offer some assistance to the woman, as well.

"Well, now, Mother, that doesn't give us much time," Nick said. "Takes an hour and a half to get there and an hour and a half back." He looked over at Emily, "May have to gallop the whole ride," and he smiled and left again.

Emily was happy to see Blackie saddled and waiting for her and greeted the mare warmly. Nick commented that Blackie seemed to know her. She didn't believe that and gave Nick a mock scowl to express it but he smiled and took her elbow to help boost up into the saddle.

"What are those?" Nick demanded, quite loudly. He had taken a wide step back and was pointing at her foot which wore the same black work boot she'd worn the last time she'd been on Blackie.

"Those are my boots," she said, not knowing what else she could say.

"Those are not riding boots!" He was certainly emphatic and Emily could not tell if he was teasing her or if he was dead serious.

"Well, " she said with great calm, "they're boots. And I ride in them. So I guess they're my riding boots." And with that she moved Blackie on to catch up with Victoria who was now out of the stable, riding her horse, Misty.

Nick rode past her to take the lead and as he did, he grumbled, "Those are not proper riding boots."

They were, in fact, the best option she had for riding. She had left her riding boots in Ohio, thrown them out, actually. Those were worn out and she didn't anticipate much opportunity for riding in San Francisco anyway. These were, however, perfectly acceptable boots and she thought Nick was silly to make such a fuss.

The three of them passed a pleasant ride in the California spring weather, mainly Victoria and Emily riding together and Nick leading the way. The trail was easy and Victoria enjoyed watching Emily's pleasure in learning about the native birds, trees, and wildflowers she saw. They took a short break by a small stream where Emily practiced pronouncing the Indian names of the places and landmarks pointed out to her.

The peach trees were in full but late bloom, some pink blossoms remaining on the branches but a full carpet of pink lay on the ground. It was beautiful.

Nick rode up beside Emily and told her what pests and diseases he looked for and how he predicted harvest.

Satisfied with the peaches, Nick led the women awhile through the orchard. Then they reached the orange grove whose trees had lost their blossoms some weeks before. Emily knew this was part of the reason she stayed in California: In Ohio, oranges were rare and dear and only for special occasions. Here, she was surrounded by thousands of oranges all around.

When they finished with the orange grove, the rode on another forty minutes or so, out of the valley floor, and up an incline, and stopped at a grassy spot beside a narrow mountain stream flowing fast and cold. There they dismounted and Victoria pulled the saddlebags from Misty. She reached inside one of them and pulled out a thin blanket which she then unrolled and spread on the ground before Emily was able to get to her and help.

Nick had disappeared into the thick woods on the other side of the stream and Victoria knelt down on the blanket and began removing and unwrapping the food for the picnic. There was chicken, bread, cheese, carrots, and a few other items.

Emily had knelt on the blanket, too, and was helping unwrap when Victoria caught her eye and nodded towards the woods, indicating Nick.

"Those must be the magic woods my brothers always talked about before they disappeared," Emily offered, deadpan.

At that, Victoria threw her head back and burst into a hearty laugh.

Nick reappeared from the woods, whistling a tune that abruptly stopped when he heard his mother laughing. He jumped across the stream and stood watching the two women.

"What did I miss?" he asked, tentatively.

"Nothing, Nick, nothing," Victoria replied as she produced three tin cups and a small bottle of wine from the depths of a saddlebag. Emily's face gave away nothing.

The meal was relaxed with talk ranging from fruit harvests to local politics to what they imagined Audra was doing at that moment.

Suddenly startled, pocket watch in hand, Victoria exclaimed, "Two fifteen! It's two fifteen! Nick, why weren't you watching the time?" She stood. Nick stood. Emily stood.

"Mother, I'm sorry, I thought – " he started.

"No matter," Victoria stated, "but I must get going. Nick, I trust you can get Emily home safely." She turned to go, then stopped and turned around to face Nick and Emily watching her in silence. "I am hoping to talk Mrs. Wells into joining us for dinner. Emily, I hope you will join us, as well." Emily simply nodded.

Victoria mounted Misty and Emily and Nick watched her canter away from them not, of course, seeing the serene smile on her face.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7.

They stood silently watching Victoria ride away and neither one moved until she was completely out of view.

Emily sat back down on the blanket while Nick remained standing. Emily looked up at him while reaching to start putting the food away. "Do you want more food, Nick?" she asked, not knowing that Nick always wanted more food.

"Hm? Oh. Oh, yeah," he said, distracted, and sat back down on the blanket, breaking off bite size pieces of bread and eating them. He was feeling a little confused and a little guilty about not watching the time more closely. Emily just felt guilty.

The silence between them was slightly uncomfortable until Emily asked softly, "Nick? What was your father like?"

"My father was an ambitious and industrious man of vision – "

"I know all that," she said, "I mean, what was he like as a father, as a man?"

Nick thought for a moment, staring down at an imperceptible speck on the blanket. "He was in control, the center of attention."

"He had natural leadership qualities, then," she offered.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that, "Nick replied.

"What would he be doing if he were here with us at this picnic?" she asked, feeling challenged by Nick's struggle to define the man he loved so much.

Nick chuckled. "Probably surveying the land around us and talking about ways to put it to use."

"Would he be able to simply sit and enjoy the wine, the sounds of the birds, the scent of pine in the air?"

Nick pondered that a moment then smiled at Emily, "Yes, but only if Mother was here to tell him to relax."

Emily smiled back at him. "Your mother is an extraordinary woman and I think your father was very lucky to have her," she stated and she meant it.

She stood and looked across the stream to the woods and then at Nick who watched her, giving her last comment great consideration.

"If you'll excuse me, please," she said. She walked to the edge of the stream, stopped, and turned around.

"Nick?"

"Yeah?"

"Are there bears in those woods?"

"Probably," he replied. There were bears in those woods.

"Oh, okay," she said, "Just checking."

"Just make lots of noise," he called after her.

She drew her skirts up and leaped across the stream and walked into The Magic Woods.

Nick smiled to himself, shook his head, and began packing up the remains of the picnic.

Emily did not encounter bears or any other ferocious wildlife in the woods but it was not for lack of offering ample time. Between carefully maneuvering the heavy skirt, the multiple petticoats, the wool breeches, and the pantaloons into just the right places and positioning herself just so, she considered the frightening possibility that Nick would tire of waiting and leave without her. Even more terrifying was the thought he might come looking for her.

She emerged from The Magic Woods to see Nick waiting for her, holding the reins for both Blackie and Coco, the remains of the feast having disappeared into the saddlebags on Coco's back.

On seeing her, Nick put his hands on his hips and called out that he was about to form a search party for her.

Emily blushed, leaped across the stream, lost her footing on landing on the other side and recovered quickly but got the back hem of her skirt wet.

"Sorry," she said, still embarrassed by the length and obvious purpose of her absence. Nick had taken a few steps towards her when she faltered so extended his hand to help her the few feet she had left to reach Blackie.

They rode awhile in amiable silence, Nick covertly watching Emily enjoy the scenery.

Nick broke the silence by asking, "What would _your_ father say if he were here with us now?"

"Oh, he would be enjoying the air and the trees and making comments about how grand nature is," she replied.

"You're a lot like your father, then," Nick said.

She pondered his comment for a moment, then offered, "He's much calmer than I am."

Nick arched an eyebrow at her, "I would hardly describe you as high strung," he stated.

"My father has an inner calm and sureness which I am trying desperately to develop for myself." Emily wondered if she had revealed too much.

"You seem pretty calm to me," Nick said.

"Maybe," she answered. "Sometimes though I think my spine is made of floss." Good Lord, the man was easy to talk to!

"Huh." Nick scratched his chin. "Like when you're at a big party?"

Emily nodded and added, "Or meeting someone new."

"What's the trouble with meeting new people?" he asked kind of gruffly.

Silence. Emily had been shy since childhood and never grew out of it.

"I can't explain it," she said, "It just makes me uncomfortable."

Nick tried to think what it must be like to be shy but he couldn't. He had never been shy and no one in his family was shy. Well, maybe Heath, he thought. But Heath wasn't shy as much as he was cautious. Maybe, Nick wondered, it was the same thing.

"Is your father shy?" Nick asked, trying to understand this shyness.

"Shy? No. I would say 'reserved'"

"What else is he, besides a judge?"

Emily looked up at the blue sky between the high tree branches, forming her answer. "He is wise and kind and understanding. He loves a good philosophical discussion. He likes to take long walks. He smokes a pipe. And he loves Beethoven, red wine, and prime rib."

Nick laughed, "A man after my own heart, the part about prime rib!"

He continued to question her. "What about these brothers of yours, are they also shy?"

"No," she said, thoughtfully, "I don't think so. I wouldn't describe any of them as gregarious either. William is probably the most out-going."

"The lawyer in Cincinnati," Nick said to confirm this was the brother he thought she was referring to.

Emily looked at him and nodded, surprised he would remember such a detail.

"And all these men, your father and brothers, approve of you living alone all the way out in California?" Nick knew he wouldn't approve if he were her brother.

"Oh, I don't know that they approve," she explained, "I think they appreciate that it's my decision, my life." She added, smiling, "I think they may also be a little jealous."

"What would you do if you did go back to Ohio?" Nick asked, and immediately regretted posing the question, thinking she might take it as a suggestion and act on it. So, he added, "Live with your father, keep his house, and cook his meals?"

"Oh, no!" she laughed, "I'd have to fight Cook for the kitchen!"

"Open a lace shop?"

Emily became serious and said, "No. If I returned to Ohio, I would be expected to care for my father who neither needs nor wants my care. I would be bored making the same social rounds with the same people I've always known, and they would look on me with pity."

"So you stayed in California to meet new people even though that scares you," he said thoughtfully.

She laughed, realizing her own paradox, "Yes, I guess that's right – to have new experiences in new places and meet new people!"

"You know, "he said, "that's actually pretty brave of you."

Emily smiled. It wasn't the first time someone told her she was brave and she quite agreed with the assessment. It made her proud to think she was courageous.

They talked about Ohio, about her brothers and his, they compared childhoods in Ohio and California.

Nick avoided asking any questions about her husband, fearing she might become emotional, so he asked her about future plans and she told him about her hope to buy a house somewhere one day and grow fruit trees in the yard.

"What do you mean 'somewhere'?" Do you mean you're not staying in Stockton?" The thought had not occurred to him that she might move away.

"Well, I'm not committed to it," she answered.

Nick got quiet. It bothered him more than he realized that she might go away and suddenly it became very important to him to say the right thing. He became shy.

But it didn't last. After a short spell of silence, Nick turned and asked, "Where else would you go?" He didn't wait for an answer. "I'm telling you, there's no better place than this valley," he declared rather loudly and pointed to the ground.

"It's lovely here, Nick," she said, "Really. But there are other places . . ."

"Like where?" he demanded and stopped Coco. So Emily stopped Blackie.

"Like Oregon . . . "

"Oregon can't hold a candle to the soil and scenery of California!" He was almost shouting.

"Nick . . . "

"You'd be a fool to leave this valley, " he stated loudly. "Why, our crops and businesses are only just beginning! This is the perfect place right now!."

"I didn't say I _was_ leaving, Nick." she explained. "Anyway, what do you care where I live?

"I don't want you to leave," he said with a soft voice, almost pleading.

Emily's eyes grew wide and she said, "Nick Barkley, are you sweet on me?"

"Yes, I am!" And now he sounded angry again.

Emily's mouth fell open just slightly. Had she truly expected him to answer yes, she would not have asked the question. This was stunning news to her: the idea that this cowboy brother of an acquaintance, the son of a benefactress of sorts, would be romantically inclined towards her had never crossed her mind and her thoughts raced back to their previous encounters and exchanges as she tried to review what she may have missed and if she had given him encouragement.

"Well, say something," he stated.

"I don't know what to say," she replied.

He realized he had caught her off guard. He spurred Coco forward, resuming their ride, knowing there was an open field not far ahead.

"Emily, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable" He said after a few minutes had passed.

"No, Nick. I'm sorry for my reaction," she countered. "It simply never occurred to me."

"That a man might find you attractive?" he asked.

"That _you_ might find me attractive," she replied.

He shot a look at her, hoping for further explanation than that, but none came. The comment and the slight smile on her face gave him hope but he also knew she needed time to come back from grief, time to think about him.

As they cleared the forest, Nick nodded towards the open pasture and said, "Let's go!" and he and Coco took off ahead.

Emily watched him ride ahead, her heart and head trying to understand what had just happened. She knew she wasn't ready to be romantically involved but she remembered her father always advised his children to accept possibilities. She urged Blackie into a gallop to catch up with Nick who was waiting for her.

Riding cleared his head and he had formulated a plan: Continue what had developed into an easy friendship but persist slowly and steadily in his suit. And the plan seemed to work immediately in so far as Emily resumed the friendship without hesitation and the rest of the ride home was friendly and fun.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8.

Back at the house, Nick and Emily found Mrs. Wells visiting with Victoria and Jarrod in the parlor. The usual introductions were made and salutations exchanged and Victoria led Emily to the downstairs bathroom to freshen up. Nick disappeared upstairs.

Alone in the bathroom, Emily stared at herself in the mirror wondering if the day's events had changed her. She felt they had but she couldn't see it with her eyes.

She removed her hat and washed her hands. She smoothed her hair with water, its curly tendrils tamed back into place, and she washed her face with cold water. She didn't pinch her cheeks. She didn't need to.

Dinner was pleasant and subdued with Victoria and Nick reporting on the approaching fruit harvests and Jarrod about progress on his legal case.

Victoria asked how the ride home went for Nick and Emily and Nick quickly announced, "Emily is considering moving away but I am working to convince her to stay."

Victoria looked away from Nick and over at Emily, sitting across from him, and saw the blood rise in her cheeks.

Victoria said, "Oh, I think you should give us some time."

"I have no current plans to go anywhere," Emily replied calmly, pleasantly, and then concentrated really hard on putting her fork to the mashed potatoes on her plate. She was relieved when Mrs. Wells shifted the topic to Stockton in general and away from Stockton and Emily.

After dinner, the group retired to the parlor, Victoria and Mrs. Wells leading the way. Mrs. Wells was talking about a local family and how their daughter could "sing like an angel."

And then it happened.

Mrs. Wells turned back to Emily and remarked, "Mrs. Fisher tells me you play the piano." Mrs. Fisher had asked Emily during a short course of polite chitchat following a recital if Emily played the piano and Emily had answered honestly that she had taken lessons in school. One of the other lessons she learned at school is that a young lady's proper response to being asked to play the piano is to do just that.

"Would you please play for us, Emily?" asked Victoria.

Emily could feel all eyes on her and heat emanating from her cheeks.

"Of course, Victoria. I would love to," she replied, thinking, what a gracious little liar I am.

She sat at the piano and considered her repertoire. There was not a sound from anyone in the room as she started to play Chopin's Valse, Number 13 in D Flat Major, Opus 70, #3 .

She chose it for its brevity and its general lightness. It had a happy calm which matched the mood she wanted and felt was becoming her own.

She tried to decline the encore requested by everyone but felt an outright denial after one song would be considered rude.

For the second piece, she played the allegretto from Schubert's Scherzo, Number 1, also a short piece and always a crowd pleaser.

She hadn't had the opportunity to play since coming to Stockton and so did not dare a longer – and more likely to be forgotten – piece.

Uncomfortable at being the center of attention, Emily knew her love of playing always won out and conquered her anxiety. She simply would have preferred an audience busy playing cards, or talking to each other, anything but focusing on her.

Her audience did accept her surrender after the second piece.

"Why, Mrs. Powell, you play beautifully!" exclaimed Mrs. Wells.

"Thank you," said Emily, "I'm afraid I'm a bit out of practice and haven't the recall I should."

"Then you should come visit more often and practice. I couldn't think of a nicer way to enjoy a houseguest," Victoria was quick to suggest.

Emily was glad when the evening drew to a close shortly afterwards. Nick took Mrs. Wells home first and both she and Nick helped her into the house and into the care of her son and daughter-in-law.

On the way to her shop, Nick smiled and said, "Well, you're really something, aren't you? Ride like a cowboy and play piano like, like, like I don't know what!" and they both laughed.

In front of the shop, Nick didn't stir from the surrey. He was leaning forward, looking ahead.

"Em, I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I'm real sorry."

Emily had started to entertain the notion of Nick as someone more than a friend as the afternoon, and then the evening, wore on. When he called her Em, though, her insides grew warm and her heart filled up. No one ever called her Em, they called her Emmie or Emma. Nick had called her Em and she liked it.

She put her gloved hand on his and patted it.

"It's okay," she said, "I'm quite recovered now."

He tilted his head towards her, took up her hand with his free hand, brought it to his lips and kissed it.

Nothing was said between them as Nick climbed down from the surrey, walked around, and lifted Emily down. Emily was dreading the awkwardness surely to come waiting for a kiss that might not happen.

There was no awkwardness, however, because there wasn't time. As soon as she reached her door, Nick still at her elbow, he turned to her, lifted her chin with a finger and kissed her mouth. His kiss was soft, and gentle, and just long enough to be decidedly unchaste.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9.

Spring in the valley blossomed fully and gave way to summer. Emily did indeed start spending time within the Barkley circle: afternoons at the piano, riding with Nick, and usually dinner at the grand house with a buggy ride home with Nick.

She had come to know Heath during those weeks, and Sarah, too. She found in Sarah an intelligent and serious soul, not much given to whimsy. Her family story was a sad one and she felt responsible to her sickly mother who was trying to make a living with her dress shop. Emily appreciated Sarah's forthright nature devoid of the frilly and duplicitous chatter common among young women of any social standing.

She also found herself settling into a small but comfortable round of ladies' tea parties and monthly meetings of the city's beautification committee.

Her business had grown enough that she was able to more than meet her monthly expenses and put some savings aside. No longer dependent on walk-in business alone, she had enough business that she was scheduling appointments and this gave her a degree of freedom to her days.

Many of her customers were the young ladies of Stockton who were the counterparts to her social circle in Ohio. These were the daughters of bankers and lawyers and wealthy landowners. And, just as it had been back home, some of the ladies were intelligent, thoughtful, interested in the greater world around them. Others were, to Emily's mind, shallow and vain.

Susannah, the tall blond who had pestered Nick with questions at the luncheon, had become a regular customer. She often asked after Audra, if the family had any recent letters from her, so Emily knew her growing connection to the family had not gone unnoticed by Stockton society. Emily had no qualms about this being general knowledge and, anyway, Susannah was the only one who talked to her about the Barkleys and she did so quite a lot.

Susannah, in fact, had been the one who told her how Nick had been engaged, briefly, two years before. Emily knew that relationship was long over as Nick had never mentioned it to her. She was jolted out of her calm however when Susannah told her the woman had been Hester Converse of San Francisco.

Emily knew Hester Converse; she had fitted her many times at Madame Thibeau's. Miss Converse was very charming, very beautiful, and, Emily knew, very cunning. She was also spoiled and Emily could not imagine Nick and Hester as a married couple. Oh, she certainly understood the mutual attraction but she shuddered at the thought of Nick having to cater to that woman and Hester's misery if she had to live in a place that lacked the sophistication and excitement of San Francisco's social calendar.

Emily gave Susannah no indication that she had met Hester Converse. Instead, she encouraged Susannah to continue talking. Susannah, it seemed, was enthralled with Miss Converse. She was envious of her life and seemed to view herself as Hester's Stockton counterpart and therefore a better match for Nick than Miss Converse.

Emily wondered how Susannah would react if she were to know that Emily had been sharing afternoons – and kisses – with Nick.

 **Vignette. Silas**

Victoria had gone into town in the afternoon, leaving Emily alone in the house at the piano.

Initially, she felt as though she could play the piano all day, she had missed it that much. On this day, however, she was growing tired of it and went to the kitchen to see if she could offer Silas some help preparing dinner.

"Oh, no, Miz Powell, don't you worry nothin' 'bout it," he answered.

"Silas, if I am to call you by your first name then you must call me by mine and it is Emily," she told him.

"All right, Miz Emily," he said, smiling as he stirred the sauce he was making on the stove.

Emily decided to let him win that one but she did want to do something besides than play the piano and asked him specifically about each dish he was preparing. As he listed off the dishes he was planning on serving, she asked him to please allow her to help with the beans and he relented.

Silas brought her out to the kitchen garden and together they picked the beans. He also allowed her to dig up the potatoes and an onion.

Soon enough, she became a frequent visitor to the kitchen. Silas taught her to make Chicken Creole and she showed him how to make the chocolate bourbon cake her father's cook had taught her to make.

Silas was no one's fool, that was certain, and he divulged nothing about himself or the Barkleys without careful consideration. Emily knew, however, that whatever loyalty he had for the family, and for Victoria especially, was more than matched by theirs for him.

Silas was not without his own agenda, however, and he started to tell her stories about Nick's childhood. What a heap of trouble that boy was, too. Emily asked if Nick wasn't the sole reason for Victoria's gray hair at which Silas laughed out loud. Emily promised not to divulge her source for the information.

One evening, after returning Emily to town, Nick burst into the kitchen where Silas was cleaning up and demanded to know how it was that Emily knew about him sneaking out of the house one night, age ten, and with a gun he'd stolen from his father so he could join the army.

"I don't know how she knows that story, Mr. Nick," Silas lied.

"I'll just bet you don't," Nick sneered.

And Silas knew his plan was working.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10.

As summer arrived with its hot sun, business at the Barkley Ranch and all the local ranches also heated up with hiring help for harvests and for the upcoming cattle roundup.

As the work increased, the population of Stockton swelled, mostly with men. There were frequent dances and social events to keep them occupied and out of trouble. Emily continued to avoid crowded social affairs despite Nick's repeated invitations. She assumed he attended some, maybe most, of these events.

On a warm evening in early July, Nick took the buggy on a detour on the way to bringing Emily home and stopped at a clearing to watch the late sunset and watch the stars appear.

Emily always enjoyed, and looked forward to, the buggy rides home in the evening when she and Nick were alone without distractions and often enough wine and whisky within to ease whatever tensions remained between them. These were times when the talking flowed gently and they shared and learned about each other.

Emily came to understand the depth of Nick's loyalty to family and not just the family as a whole or as an empire but his care and consideration for each individual who belonged to it. She learned about his love for dancing, for any physicality really, his deep disdain for pretense, particularly moral pretense and hypocrisy. And she teased him gently for his agnosticism while also believing in common superstition.

He shared with her his past loves and hurts and included in this his brief engagement to Hester. She told him how she knew Hester and that she was relieved the engagement was broken, remarking that she felt such a marriage would have been far more miserable for him than for Hester.

Emily answered Nick's questions, telling him her favorite book was "Jane Eyre" by Charlotte Bronte, her favorite color was cornflower blue but she didn't have a favorite flower. He tried to get her name one favorite flower but she could only narrow it down to delphiniums and peonies. She told him how she spent her earlier childhood, during the war years, with her mother's family in northern Ohio and that they were Quakers who had helped slaves escape to Canada.

Her favorite time of day was dusk because of the shades of blue it created. "Like your eyes," he had commented. He learned she had a strong faith in God and not much in religion. And that she wanted to believe in ghosts.

On this night, Nick and Emily were both leaning back in the buggy, their feet resting on the front board, when Nick voiced his disappointment in Emily's continued reluctance to attend a dance with him. "I don't like going by myself," he stated.

"I'm sure you're not alone once you get there," Emily said confidently.

"That's not the point!" he said, "I'd like to have someone on my arm when I arrive."

"Why don't you ask Margaret Linehart?" she suggested. Margaret was a pretty brunette, rather bland, but Emily liked her.

Nick shook his head.

"Emmaline Grafton?" Emmaline was a quick-witted blond, lovely girl.

Again, he shook his head.

"Susannah Ahern! She would love to be escorted by you."

Nick groaned in response, which brought a small laugh from Emily.

Emily studied the colors in the twilight sky and couldn't understand why Nick would be so hesitant to ask a girl to a dance.

Then she suddenly took her feet off the front board and planted them on the floorboard, sitting up straight.

"All right then," she stated firmly, "Take me to the dance. Now. Tonight. But you'll have to answer to any rumors that start."

Nick grabbed the reins and quickly got the buggy moving again towards town.

"What kind of rumors are you thinking people will start?" he asked.

"That Nick Barkley and Emily Powell are in a serious romance," she answered.

Nick didn't quite know how to respond because he thought they _were_ in a serious romance

The dance was an outdoor affair and less boisterous than Emily anticipated. She made sure to take Nick's arm and stayed very close to him as they approached the party.

Initially, she thought no one had noticed until she saw Susannah dancing past them. The girl did a double take and she was not smiling. Emily also noticed a few young ladies off to the side, talking among themselves, and casting frequent looks at her and Nick.

The familiar knot in Emily's stomach was getting larger and when Nick finished talking with his friend, she said, "Nick, please dance with me now." She would have preferred leaving but the damage was already done.

She loved the dancing and of course she loved the music, all fiddles and polkas and happy. And maybe she didn't fully understand the rules of dances Out West but when Nick allowed an unknown cowboy to cut in and dance with her, a fresh wave of panic set in.

The girls continued to stare and talk to each other and Emily danced several dances, each one with a different man.

When, after an eternity, Nick stepped in to dance with her, he had only to look at her face and he said, "I'll take you home when this dance is over, okay?" She nodded her head and held him a little tighter.

She was relieved but also disappointed with herself that her anxiety had been that evident to him; she thought she had done a good job of looking happy.

She was acutely aware of being watched as Nick led her away and helped her into the buggy, and they drove off alone together.

Emily silently reprimanded herself for behaving in a manner unbecoming of a widow: Dancing merrily with all those men! Not to mention the talk which was surely stirring after she arrived, and departed, on Nick's arm.

"What's wrong? Nick asked, rather harshly.

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong."

"Uh-huh," He wasn't buying it.

"Did you have a good time tonight, Nick?" she asked brightly.

"I did! I think I was the envy of every man there," he looked at her, smiling.

""Good!" she said and smiled, pleased to have made him happy.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11.

Two days later at dinner, Victoria read Audra's most recent letter aloud to the family, this one from Venice, and it contained a litany of people she had met and dances she had attended. She wrote of being homesick and growing tired of her European adventure but not tired enough to come home yet. She still had Paris to conquer in the fall and she was looking forward to that.

"Speaking of dances, Nick," Victoria said, looking at him, "Am I to understand you convinced Emily to go to the dance the other night?"

"Yes!" he exclaimed with enthusiasm, "I sure did and we had a great time. Well, I had a great time. I think she's worried about being seen in public with me."

Quietly, Heath added, "It's more than that. She told Sarah she's concerned about being too . . . how did she say it? 'Conduct unbecoming of a widow.'"

Nick slammed his hand on the table and proclaimed loudly, "That's the most ridiculous thing I ever heard. She should be allowed to have some fun!"

"That's what Sarah told her," said Heath. "It's been two years, over two years, and no one expects her to mourn like the Queen of England."

"Well," Jarrod added calmly, "there are certain social conventions but I agree, after two years she should feel comfortable, and fully welcomed, back into normal social functions."

"And who cares what anyone thinks?" said Nick, still loud.

"I think Emily cares, Nick," Victoria reasoned.

"Well, she shouldn't! This isn't Ohio; we do things differently in California!"

"You have a good point, Nick," Victoria stated, and she placed her napkin on the table indicating the end of the meal.

Jarrod stood and excused himself from the table, challenging Heath and Nick to billiards. Heath excused himself, as well, and followed Jarrod out of the dining room.

Victoria was about to leave the room when Nick said to her, "I'm going to have a little talking to with a certain Emily Powell about how we do things in California!"

"Nick," said Victoria, looking into his face with all the maternal authority she could muster, "Don't push her."

"'Don't push her," he repeated. "She needs some pushing!"

"Nick, you push her and you will push her away," she said, matching his intensity. Then she softened and said softly, "Lead her. Encourage her. But let her find her own way in her own time with your support."

Several days later, Emily was practicing at the piano in the Barkley parlor. Victoria was seated nearby working on some mending. It was an especially hot day and the veranda provided enough shade to slightly cool the air that wafted in through the open French doors.

"I understand, Emily, that you accompanied Nick to a dance last week."

Emily stopped making music come out of the piano and folded her hands in her lap. Here it comes, she thought, at least if I did anything wrong, Victoria will tell me without condemnation.

"Yes, I did," replied Emily, spine straight and looking at Victoria. Her planned defense was that she did it to make Nick happy.

"You know," Victoria started, her eyes remaining focused on her mending, "it's perfectly acceptable for you to have a good time with people your own age."

Emily nodded slowly, relieved and appreciative of Victoria's support.

"I've only known a few people widowed at a young age," Emily said quietly, "and I didn't know them well. And it was a long time ago, back in Ohio."

Victoria had stopped mending and was looking at her tenderly. "I'm afraid the West makes a lot of widows and with the scarcity of women here certain rules of propriety, while common back East, become very relaxed here. I wouldn't worry about it," she said.

"Thank you, Victoria."

"I'm glad you went to the dance," said Victoria. Then she added, "And I don't think, no one thinks, you are dishonoring Sam or his memory."

Emily closed her eyes for a brief moment and nodded solemnly. She then went back to trying to play Liszt's Hungarian Rhapsody, Number 2. She had never been able to master it before but now she wanted to be able to at least play it competently all the way through because she knew Nick would enjoy the last movements.

Later, alone in her own home, Emily kept recalling Victoria's assurance that she was not dishonoring Sam's memory. She had grieved, and was still grieving, but the pain was not nearly as raw with the passing of time. But was she honoring Sam? Certainly, the time she spent with Nick was not honoring Sam but that was private, between her and Nick. What about her public behavior? All that joyous dancing? Was that showing proper respect for her dead husband for all the world to see?

Sam's mother wouldn't think so and this was the ruler by which Emily often measured herself where Sam was concerned. He was the younger of two boys and his mother's favorite, the one who looked most like her. Emily knew that Mary Powell would have preferred a daughter-in-law who never rode astride, never caught a frog or jumped into a pond from a rope swing. And, without a doubt, Mary Powell would have preferred a daughter-in-law who did not encourage her son to move West all the way to wicked San Francisco. And it had killed him. Mrs. Powell's few letters after Sam's death never said so, but Emily knew her mother-in-law blamed her for Sam's death to some degree. And Emily didn't have a mother to convince her otherwise.


	12. Chapter 12

**Vignette. Cowgirl.**

Being a lady of gentle breeding, Emily was always careful not to assert herself into the daily life and workings of the Barkley household. She was especially cautious not to intrude on the intricate workings of the stables, Nick's particular realm which he ruled outright.

But the girl who loved playing cowboy with her brothers in Ohio couldn't help herself one afternoon while waiting alone in the corral for Nick.

The lasso was laying there, practically calling her name, so she picked it up and began swinging its circle over her head and vertically at her side, making it do its sinuous dance at her bidding.

Nick stopped in his tracks when he saw her and watched quietly, unnoticed. He didn't think he'd ever seen a lady, a lady in a dress and pretty straw hat with a big blue bow, swing a lasso with such ease. He didn't think he'd ever seen a lady swing a lasso at all.

"Whatcha planning on ropin' there, Mrs. Powell?" he asked, smiling broadly, armed crossed.

Emily stopped, embarrassed, and coiled the lasso back up and returned it to the exact place where she'd found it.

"You, uh, did a lot of roping back there in Ohio?" he asked, smiling, as he walked into the corral.

"Oh, yes! My brothers and I roped every day!" she said proudly.

"What kinds of things were you roping?" he asked, as he adjusted Coco's saddle, getting ready to ride.

"Fence posts, mainly," she said, quite serious.

Nick laughed out loud.

"And the occasional milking cow, minding her own business, chewing her cud," she added, still serious.

"Of course," she explained, "it's much more difficult to rope a moving thing."

"Is that a fact?" He was trying to keep a straight face.

"Uh huh," she answered. "Tried to rope snakes once but it didn't go so well."

"No?"

"No, slipped away every time."

Chapter 12.

Summer lingered with a stifling heat and Emily was tired. Nick was away a lot. The entire family was away a lot: roundup, a family trip to the mountains, horse trading in Arizona.

Joseph Finch, the new librarian, asked her to a dance but she declined. She accepted his second invitation, though. The evening included dinner at a restaurant before the dance began. Conversation revolved around literature and politics, both topics held some interest for her but he, alas, did not. He was nice and he was polite but seemed less interested in her and more interested in being seen with her. The date was not repeated.

On Saturday morning not long after her date, with fall almost starting to announce itself in the now cooler night air, Emily sat in her rocking chair at the front of her shop. The "OPEN" sign faced the street but it was still early for customers. She was tatting and lost in thoughts about Nick when the door flew open, its bell chiming loudly, and Nick stepped in calling out "Em?" at the moment he saw her.

Emily was surprised and happy to see him, it had been weeks and she had to admit she missed him. She felt a little flutter in her heart at seeing him now, which she chose to ignore for the moment.

"Em, we caught some more mustangs this morning, wanna come see 'em?" he asked, breathlessly. Clearly, he had rushed over to tell her.

She stood from the rocker and, putting the tatting on the chair behind her, said, "Yes! Of course I do!"

She stood a moment, thinking what she needed to do to get ready and how long it might take her. "Uh, Nick? Can you wait while I get ready?"

He waved his hands in the air dismissively. "Sure, do whatever you need to do. I'll wait," he said. He appreciated that, unlike most of the women he knew, it wasn't going to take her a long time. She wasn't one for fussing about her hair or her dress or whatever it was women fuss over. He liked that about her.

She fled upstairs to pull her breeches on under her skirt and gathered her hat and gloves and in the midst of her activity she felt that flutter again. She steadied herself with a hand on her dresser and took a deep breath before starting downstairs again.

Nick had picked up the tatting from the chair, looked at it, frowned, placed it on the counter, and sat in the rocker to wait for her.

He was barely settled into the chair when she re-entered the shop. He stood and smiled at her.

At the sight of him, she felt her heart skip a few beats and she thought to herself, 'Oh, Dear God, I think I'm falling in love.'

Nick squinted at her and asked if she was all right. She was afraid he had read her thoughts but then realized she was blushing.

"Sure," she said. It came out as a squeak.

Nick turned the shop sign to read "CLOSED" and held the door open for her. Out in the street, Emily saw, not the buggy, but Coco and Blackie.

Riding out of town, Nick looked at Emily, shook his head and laughed, "We have go to get you some proper riding boots!"

"These are perfectly serviceable boots," she countered.

"No, next week I'm going to buy you a pair of proper riding boots."

"You're not buying me anything, Nick Barkley," she shot back at him. "I would buy myself some riding boots if I thought it was really necessary. Subject closed."

Nick was quiet a moment, then said, "You're a stubborn one, aren't you?"

Emily thought a moment and said, "No, I don't think I'm stubborn. I have strength of conviction."

"Okay! Okay!" He held his hand up in surrender.

He directed them to trail that led directly from the town to the corral. The trail was narrow and steep and the going slow enough that there was opportunity to catch up on each other's news.

He told her that Audra was writing Carl letters of longing and would be boarding her return ship home in a few weeks.

He told her how Heath and Sarah had hit a rough patch in their relationship. Nick didn't know the details but Emily did. Sarah had confided in her and Emily was not going to break that confidence, so she said nothing.

Nick told her about round up, fishing, Arizona, offering her only the highlights in summary.

"And," he asked, "What have you been doing?"

"Well," she said tentatively, "I went to a dance."

He looked over at her in surprise. "You did what?" he said teasingly, but glad she'd taken a step out. "You went to a dance all by yourself?"

"Well, no," she said, "Joseph Finch asked me."

"Joseph Finch, huh?" he said. "How was it?"

"He's a nice man," she said.

"That all you can say?"

"Yes, " she said, smiling at him.

They rode on in silence. Nick felt troubled by Emily's news but he didn't know why. He knew he wasn't exactly jealous of Joe Finch and he thought he was glad she was gaining confidence but he felt a little threatened all the same.

The trail had become narrow and Emily rode behind Nick, watching him from behind, increasingly aware of her feelings for him and it troubled her.

There were a few men at the corral, no women, and six new mustangs within the pen looking very restless. A couple of wranglers were inside trying to rope one.

Emily stood on the bottom rail of the fence to get a closer look and watched, now understanding more about taming mustangs than when the year started.

Heath approached her and seemed more subdued than usual. He stood up on the fence, too, next to her, and asked if she had talked with Sarah. She said she had.

Heath tried to get Emily to divulge what Sarah had said and Emily would have none of it. She turned to Heath and said, "What Sarah told me she told me in confidence. I don't think the issue is insurmountable and I do hope the two of you continue to try. I think you're good together."

Heath smiled, gave her arm a squeeze, and said a soft, "Thanks." It was all the encouragement he needed, really.

Nick had watched them talking and though he didn't feel threatened by Heath, he did feel jealous, wanting Emily's attentions for himself.

Riding back to the house, Nick was quiet in spite of Emily's efforts to get him talking about the mustangs, about cattle, about fishing, about anything.

"Nick, do you want to tell me what's wrong?" she asked.

"Not really."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked. She was sincere and he knew it.

He looked at her and almost said something but stopped himself.

Nick's silence troubled her. She knew him to be much more open about his thoughts. But she also respected his desire to keep it to himself. She knew whatever was bothering him would rise to the surface and reveal itself.

She joined the family for dinner that evening for the first time in a long time and Victoria was glad to see her. Nick acted like his normal self around the family but Emily watched him closely, an effort which did not go unnoticed by either Victoria or Jarrod.

Nick's normal behavior at the house only confirmed Emily's suspicion that whatever was wrong concerned her and she was worried that he had become aware of her growing affection for him and was trying to find a way to remove himself from her.

Nick took her home in the buggy, as usual, and initially remained quiet. Emily matched his silence, waiting.

Then her turned to her and said, "Em, I'm glad you went to a dance, and I guess I'm glad you went on a date . . . "

"Go on," she said, her heart pounding, not knowing what to expect next.

" . . . but I wish you wouldn't" he finished.

"I see," she said.

"You, uh, gonna go out with Joe Finch again?

Emily laughed. "Mr. Finch is a very nice man, but no."

Nick stopped the buggy and was searching her face. He thought she looked worried.

"Emily, I want to marry you."

Emily's face went from worried to horrified.

"Marry me?" She actually inched away from him. "You want to marry me?"

Emily's head started to spin and the knot in her stomach suddenly grew very large and very tight.

"You don't have to be so overjoyed about it," Nick said, hurt and bewildered.

Emily had both hands pressed to her bodice to still her heart. "Nick!" she said breathlessly, "I don't know that I'm ready to marry anyone and," she frowned, "I don't think I can marry you."

"Why not!" he stated, sounding either hurt or angry. She couldn't tell.

She dropped her hands into her lap and looked into his eyes intently.

"I was married before, Nick," she said. He gave no response so she tried again. "I had a husband."

His face registered understanding and he exclaimed, "That! I don't care about that!" He didn't.

"I can't have children," she said, continuing to look at him intently.

"We can worry about that later," he said quickly.

"No, Nick," she declared, shaking her head for emphasis. "That's something you need to consider very carefully before making a . . . "

Nick heard his mother's voice telling him to guide and encourage her and to not push. He also remembered how stunned she'd been when he first revealed his feelings to her and how she recovered under his strategy of steady persistence.

"All right," he said, softly, "We'll just take it as it comes, then."

Emily nodded. "Okay, Nick."

That night the kiss was deep and passionate.

And it made her weak in the knees.

Emily didn't sleep that night. She tried to defer her dilemma to the next day but still the sleep didn't come.

She thought she might want to marry Nick but only out of her growing feelings and she felt those needed time to mature. She could not, however, give him children and this was a man who would want children no matter what he may say today.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13.

The entire Barkley family was making plans to travel to San Francisco to meet Audra's train and the excitement in the house was palpable.

To herself, Emily acknowledged a small anxiety and disappointment about how her own life would shift with Audra's return: Victoria would not need her company and so the opportunities to enjoy the piano would decrease. And fewer evenings at the Barkley Ranch meant fewer buggy rides home with Nick.

Just as well, she sighed inwardly. God knows, she didn't want to fall in love with the man and it would be best if he didn't love her. A gentle separation made by outside forces might be a blessing.

Nick was not a man to keep his personal turmoil secret but neither was he much good at expressing it in a discreet or controlled manner. This time, he didn't storm or brood but his mood was off and his mother noticed.

Days before meeting Audra's train, Victoria approached him and asked, "Do you want to talk about it?" She had no doubt Nick's distraction concerned Emily.

"I asked her to marry me and she said 'no,'" he replied soberly.

"I see, " Victoria said, considering the problem. "Did she say 'no' or did she say something more than just 'no'?"

"What?" He stopped and thought a moment. "She said she's not ready to marry anyone – "

Victoria interrupted, "That's not 'no,' that's 'not now.'"

"And she said she can't marry me because she can't have children," he added.

"Nick," Victoria stated, "there are lots of very happy couples who do not have children. And, anyway, if you want children you can adopt."

"I know that," he said sadly, "but maybe she has a point."

Victoria had heard enough. "Nick Barkley," she announced with authority, "a very wise and very good person once said that love makes a family. Now who was that . . . " she pretended to wonder. "Hmm . . . Oh, that's right! It was Emily Barrett Powell who said that. Emily Powell once said to me, in reference to Heath, that love, not blood, makes a family."

Nick smiled at his mother and she put her hand on his arm.

"Don't push her, Nick," she reminded him, "but do not, for the love of God, do not let her go." And with that, she swept out of the room.

The family greeted a somewhat weary, somewhat stunned Audra at the train station in San Francisco. It did not take her long to recover, however, and soon she was bubbling over with excited reports on her European adventure.

Venice was beautiful, she said. Florence and Rome magnificent. Paris was pretty, she said, but it remained mysterious and foreign to her in its social mores and intrigues for which she had neither the language skills nor the guile to understand. London, on the other hand, was for her a shining metropolis of civility. But it was the English countryside she loved the best: The rolling green pastures, the formal gardens, the grand houses.

It was all wonderful, Audra said, but ultimately it felt confining to her and she was glad to be home. Or nearly home, anyway. She was eager to see Carl and she was tired of city life, any city, so she asked to go home to the ranch at the first opportunity.

By the next afternoon, life had resumed its normal patterns and rhythms for all members of the Barkley family, save for Audra and her mother who spent time alone together sharing the details of their lives that couldn't fit in their letters.

On the topic of Nick, Audra learned the extent of his time and emotional involvement with Emily and she expressed her surprise. She told her mother she had been sure Emily was the woman for Jarrod.

"On the surface, perhaps," he mother explained, "But remember, she left San Francisco and she loves our valley. She is an expert horsewoman, better than you even. And you watch them together: She calms him and he draws her out."

Heath and Sarah, too, were discussed. The trouble between them seemed to have been overcome and Heath was spending more time away from the ranch. Audra hoped a marriage was imminent and Victoria secretly believed that it was.

Foremost of all romances in Audra's mind was her own burgeoning commitment to Carl. It seemed to Victoria that Audra's attitude about it had matured and the matriarch knew her empire was about to change in significant ways. And that made her happy.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14.

On a cool October afternoon, shortly after Audra's scheduled return, Emily was in her shop, stove as yet unlit and a wool sweater on to keep her warm. She was slipping stays into the corset she was making for the rather ample Mrs. Hawkins.

She gloried in her solitude in her snug little shop but had spent more time thinking about Nick than she would have liked.

She thought about moving to San Jose, to Monterey, to Oregon even, but these were mere musings and she didn't consider them very seriously. She liked Stockton: She had made friends, built a stable business, and had settled into a comfortable routine and all of it had been an effort for her. She did _not_ want to start all over again somewhere else. As for Nick, she decided, either he would allow her space and time or he would move on and Emily believed he would choose the latter.

With her back to the shop's front door, bent over, and fighting a particularly resistant stay, Emily heard the front door open with its chime. She lingered a moment over the corset stay, not ready to surrender the fight, and wanting to allow her customer a moment to browse.

When there was no greeting from the customer, she surmised it was a new customer and she called out that she would be right with them. Then she called a truce with the stay, quickly tucked Mrs. Hawkins's corset into a cupboard, and turned around to see Nick standing there, hat in hand.

"Hi, Nick!" she said, casually. She was more surprised by her own calm than she was by his unexpected visit.

"I was, uh, hoping you would join me for dinner tonight at the Cattlemen's Hotel," he said.

This was a new request. They'd never dined out together before and she was momentarily flustered by the novelty of the proposal.

Nick immediately stated, "Just, uh, dinner. No serious conversation."

"O . . . kay," she said. She glanced at the clock in the room. "I'll need to dress for dinner."

Nick was going to protest, tell her she was dressed just fine, but understood that women had a complex set of rules about these things.

"I'll wait," he said, and he turned around to put the "CLOSED" sign in the window as Emily slipped upstairs.

The rocking chair had been moved deeper into shop, next to the sewing machine (an investment she and Sam made together). Nick crossed the room and sat in the rocker but got back up, feeling restless. He scanned the room and noted lots of white fabric, some on bolts, some folded, some brighter than others, some rough, some shiny, and it occurred to him that sewing ladies' underclothes was a lot more complicated than he had assumed.

He walked over to some shelves and studied all the different rolls of ribbon, noting that most of them were very pale in color. There were glass jars which contained the smallest buttons he thought he'd ever seen. Or maybe they were just the smallest buttons he'd ever noticed.

Upstairs, Emily removed her sweater, blouse, belt, and skirt. She slipped another petticoat over those she already wore, this one with a several flounces in the back. She considered, then rejected, adding a bustle and chose a dress of tone-on-tone cotton damask in deep mauve trimmed with matching ribbon. Simple. Elegant.

She brought out her gray wool coat. It might be cold outside tonight, she thought, and she laid it on the bed. Then she unpinned her braids, unbraided two sections, and pinned it all up again as before but now looser, softer.

Picking up the coat, she found her black winter gloves tucked into the pockets, and smiled, making the association between Nick's trademark and her own cold weather utility.

Nick had discovered a book filled with drawings of ladies' underclothes Emily used for inspiration and for her customers to communicate their requests. He heard her descending the stairs but didn't put the book away.

She entered the shop while putting her coat on.

"You're very pretty tonight," he said, turning to look at her.

"Thank you," she said smiling, "See anything you like?"

"Oh, OH! You make all those . . . things?" he asked.

"Most of them."

"And only in white," he smiled.

Emily laughed. "Mostly, yes." She looked him up and down. "Don't you have a jacket?"

"Don't need one," he replied, and held his arm out to her. "Shall we?"

She smiled, curtsied, and took his arm.

They walked to the restaurant, taking their time, as it was still early. Emily felt awe and a little social discomfort at the number of people who greeted Nick by name and realized they had never been out together in the early evening on a weekday.

At the restaurant, he helped her with her coat, and as they were being seated, he called out to the bartender, "Whisky! And the lady will have a brandy."

The table was in a corner, which Emily appreciated. On the way there, they had chatted about ranch business and news from her father's latest letter. Once seated, she asked about Audra and the first thing Nick told her was how anxious Audra was to see her though Emily couldn't imagine why.

Emily asked as many questions about Audra's travels as she thought he could bear. Clearly, Europe was not as fascinating to him as it was to his sister.

The conversation between them was easy, comfortable, and natural. Nick told her about Audra and Carl, about the family's feelings about the relationship, about his own. They talked about Heath and Sarah.

Emily asked, "If they get married, will they live at the house, do you think?"

"Course they will!" he declared, then he leaned forward and frowned, "You think they'll actually get married?"

Emily shrugged. "Who knows how the heart will speak?" The double meaning was not lost on Nick and he chose not to pursue it. It was, after all, a condition of dinner with her.

There was wine with dinner. Nick had steak, and Emily tried the Dungeness crab, commenting that she was pretty sure she had died and gone to heaven. Dessert was a new creation called an ice cream soda and they agreed it was good.

Early twilight had changed to deep night by the time they left the restaurant. The air was chilly and there was no moon. There were far fewer people out and about than before and the music from the saloons was audible, punctuated by an occasional shout made out of anger or alcohol and probably both.

Nick and Emily continued talking the kind of easy back and forth trusted friends share. They looked in shop windows and pointed out items of interest, curiosity, and they created private jokes.

Past a general store and around the corner from a livery stable was a saddlery. Nick saw them first and though he had not brought Emily there on purpose, the timing was precious.

"Em! Look!" he said, excited, "Riding boots!"

She gasped with exaggeration. "Oh, Nick, they're beautiful! Let's get them right now before I change my mind!" Then very quickly and with mock disappointment, "Oh, what a pity! The store is closed."

"We can come back!" he declared, smiling broadly.

But she had taken his hand and was pulling him away from the window, laughing, "No!"

The evening ended with a passionate kiss and no talk of marriage. Nick, as usual, stayed outside her door to make sure she was able to light a lantern inside.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15.

Emily was glad she and Nick were able to resume the comfort of their relationship without any talk about marriage.

She was up early the next morning and happy to see the sun shining on such a crisp fall day. She went about her morning routine contented and even left the stove on to warm to warm the shop.

This was a fortunate choice for no sooner had she unlocked the front door and placed the "OPEN" sign in the window than Audra entered.

Emily was happier to see her than she thought she would be and noted a change in Audra's usual demeanor. For while Audra's greeting retained its familiar warmth, it now held a graceful calm which Emily surmised came from growing up while away.

Audra said she stopped by to let Emily know how grateful she was for all the beautiful garments she'd made for her and how she'd worn them every day over in Europe.

Audra also wanted to invite her to a small party her mother was hosting the next day to celebrate her safe return. Emily accepted the invitation only to worry about it later. Audra didn't say what kind of a party it would be or how many people had been invited. What she did say, however, was that Nick would be by with the buggy at one o'clock and that she was happy she and Nick were spending time together.

Emily had never really considered what the Barkley family thought of her in general or how they regarded her relationship with Nick. She wondered if they considered her and Nick as courting and what kinds of expectations they might have from that. To be sure, she was always treated very well by the family, but people as gracious and kind as the Barkleys, no matter their social status, tend to keep their sincere feelings to themselves. Emily hoped she hadn't missed any clues about the family's true regard for her.

Whatever doubts she harbored evaporated on her arrival to the house the following afternoon. Victoria greeted her with particular enthusiasm in front of the other guests and led her into the parlor and sat next to her so they could catch up with each other's lives.

The party went well, too. Its guests were mainly a few of Audra's young friends, Carl among them, with a few neighbors stopping in to say hello and leaving.

Emily was pleased not to have any particular attention paid to her, not even by Nick who, none the less, never seemed to stray too far from her. She felt she blended into the milieu and so felt relaxed enough in the absence of the pressure to perform that, ironically enough, she was happy to play the piano at Audra's request. And so, she was given the opportunity to engage in one of her favorite pursuits surrounded by people who paid attention to each other and not to her. She simply provided the background music.

Dinner with the family was later than usual, after the guests had left. Carl stayed for dinner and Victoria insisted Emily join them, as well. Heath had taken Sarah home early to be with her mother who had taken ill a few days before.

At dinner, Emily was impressed by the young woman lady Audra had become and noted her interactions with Carl revealed more than romance; they demonstrated mutual kindness and respect

Nick noticed the interaction between Audra and Carl, too, and on the ride home he and Emily speculated on a possible marriage between his sister and Carl. Nick had known Carl for years and considered him a good friend. He said he would welcome him as brother-in-law. Nick did not, however, notice any change in his sister's general demeanor and Emily wondered aloud if that was because he was a man or because he was a brother.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16.

Autumn settled in with its rain and early nights, and, for Emily, the weeks slipped by in a gentle rhythm of sewing and visits to the Barkley Ranch. She found herself helping Audra at the piano, enjoying an occasional afternoon with Nick outdoors, dinner with the family, and always there was an intimate buggy ride home.

Emily may have remained cozy and content but for her growing worry about Sarah's mother. It was a worry she shared with many, but mostly with Sarah.

By late November, Ruth was bedridden with pneumonia. Emily didn't think she would survive but she kept that to herself. Her worry shifted to Sarah and her visits to their home, not far from her own, became longer and more frequent.

Heath, too, became a more frequent guest and Emily could see the same silent worry in his eyes. Often, Emily would arrive to find Heath and Sarah sitting at the table together, the house still and quiet except for the sound of Ruth's labored breathing coming from a nearby room.

Emily eventually stopped bringing food to Sarah and Ruth as there was now an abundance brought over from concerned friends, neighbors, customers, and, of course, the Barkleys.

Many people came to help, to sit with Ruth, offer comfort or run errands for Sarah, but it was Heath and Emily who formed the core of Sarah's support.

With Ruth so ill and unable to attend to sewing, customers began taking their business elsewhere and financial survival became a very real concern for Sarah despite assurances from Heath and Emily.

Emily, too, had declined some work to be more available to her friend and she took secret, albeit guilty, pleasure in turning Susannah Ahern away.

A solemn Thanksgiving came and went. On the morning of the following Tuesday, as Emily brought hot tea to Sarah who sat holding her mother's hand, the dying woman let out a long breath and did not take in another. Emily stood rooted to the floor at the foot of the bed and Sarah, sitting beside her mother, waited, frozen, and they both watched the woman's face relax.

Sarah looked up at Emily, her face a registering a combination of fear and questioning.

Emily quickly, quietly, placed the cup and saucer on the dresser, the nearest flat surface, and swept over to her friend, placing one hand on Sarah's shoulder and the other against Ruth's neck, feeling nothing at all.

She turned to Sarah and said, "Honey, she's gone."

Actually, Emily wasn't certain; She'd never watched anyone die before. But she was as certain as she could be.

Sarah had turned back to her mother, head bent, and crying. Emily moved to stand behind her friend, still with a hand on her shoulder, and wondered what to do next. She didn't want to leave Sarah alone but she thought someone should know, someone with authority should help, and she wanted to be useful.

After some minutes had passed, Emily asked if Sarah wanted her to fetch the doctor and Sarah nodded her head. Emily knew Dr. Merar could do nothing as she was now very certain that Ruth was dead. Sarah nodded her head again when Emily asked if she would be all right by herself for a short time.

Emily left slowly, quietly, as if in a dream. She wrapped herself in her wool coat and blinked at the frosty morning light. She'd gone only a few steps on the wooden sidewalk when she saw Heath approaching on Charger. Strange she should notice him as she hadn't noticed anyone else. She stopped and waited for him.

Heath stayed in his saddle as Emily looked up and told him that Ruth had just died.

"I'll get Dr. Merar," he said, and started to leave but Emily stopped him.

"No, Heath. I'll get the doctor," she said, "Please go be with Sarah. She needs you, not me."

Heath nodded silently and dismounted, tied Charger to the fence, and went inside the house. Emily was glad to have a useful mission, grim though it was.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17.

Ruth was laid to rest a few days later. After the funeral, Nick pulled Emily aside to tell her how grateful Heath was for her help.

Indeed, she'd been sleeping at the house since Ruth died. She knew she couldn't take the place of Sarah's mother but she remembered how very alone she felt after Sam died and how comforting it had been to have someone, anyone, simply nearby.

Emily also knew the haunted, sorrowful, look in Sarah's eyes because she had seen it in her own. Losing a mother is not the same as losing a husband but Emily understood, as only those who have grieved understand, that every death, every loss, brings with it a darkness so bleak and so unfathomable that human life is the only thing that can light the way out. Sometimes, it takes a long time to see it.

So she stayed near Sarah, never asking, and never telling, allowing for Sarah to come to her if and when she needed her.

Heath came every day and it was then that Emily would slip out to do errands for Sarah and for herself.

Several days after the funeral, Heath arrived in the buggy, leading Blackie, and Nick on Coco alongside him. They had decided, at Victoria's suggestion, that a day out and away from the house was what was needed.

Sarah needed a little cajoling but agreed to go at Emily's urging and so the four of them left town for the sake of leaving town.

They stopped in a small but sunny dale and ate from the picnic Silas had packed. The heat from the midday sun warmed the little valley, taking off the winter chill, and brightening the colors all around as though to confirm that the sun does not know sorrow.

Heath and Sarah went for a walk together and when they were out of sight, Nick asked Emily how she was doing.

"I'm sad, so sad for Sarah. I hardly knew Ruth but I remember the pain I felt after Sam died and my heart breaks for her." Emily's own grief started to spill forth with the verbal acknowledgement and, try as she may, she was not able to stop her own tears. She hadn't cried in a long time and now, suddenly, a fresh new wave of sorrow washed over her.

Nick watched wordlessly as a few tears slipped down her cheeks and she wiped them away with the backs of her hands. Then he looked away and said, "I'm sorry."

Emily recovered quickly and redirected to conversation to happier things They talked in subdued tones about things like Christmas plans, Audra and Carl, and Glory the Mustang's foal, due in about a month.

Heath and Sarah returned to the buggy, arm in arm, and Emily noted a look pass between the brothers.

On the way back to town, Heath and Sarah shared their plans to marry before the end of the month, possibly New Year's Eve. Given her state of mourning as well as Heath and Sarah's natural inclinations, they were keeping their plans quiet: Only Nick and Emily were to know and only Nick and Emily, they knew, could be trusted with this confidence.

Heath took Sarah home in the buggy. Emily had returned to sleep in her own home only the night before and while they rode through the town to her shop, neither Emily nor Nick said a word but it was a thoughtful, comfortable silence.

They had seen little of each other during Ruth's illness and, while Emily was occupied with the duties of friendship, Nick found he missed her company.

Emily accepted Nick's invitation to go riding the following Monday. She wanted, even needed, to chase the wind with Blackie. Nick just wanted to be alone with Emily.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18.

The day was bright and it was cold enough to make their breath fog in the morning. Emily loved it. The straw hat was put away for the winter months and in its place she wore a poke bonnet of deep blue-gray that matched her eyes.

Nick had fences to inspect and Emily was more than happy to accompany him. Riding to their destination, Nick extended the family's invitation for her to spend Christmas at the ranch but she declined, as he knew she would. She explained that since Heath and Sarah were planning to make their engagement announcement sometime over Christmas, she wanted to give them that time alone with the family. Nick chose to accept the reason at face value but that didn't mean he understood it.

"What'll you do instead?" he asked, squinting out the bright winter sunlight.

She smiled serenely. "Mm, light a candle, read a book, write a letter."

"But Christmas is about family!" he exclaimed, in what Emily had come to describe as The Nick Barkley Voice of Declaration, "It's about bein' together with other people."

"Maybe. For some," her voice was calmer than usual, "It's also a time to reflect on and celebrate God's gifts. I can do that alone."

He shook his head. "You are an odd creature, Emily Powell," he said. He was serious and it hurt her feelings.

"Oh? You think I'm odd?" she asked, her tone was still just as calm, and it did not betray her hurt feelings.

"Well, what I mean is, it's not _natural_ not to be with people, not to _want_ to be around other people!" He was being declarative again. And loud.

"No, Nick," she scolded him, "It's not natural for _you_ not to want to be around other people. Because you thrive on company, you cannot comprehend that some people just need to be alone sometimes."

He thought about this for a long time, then asked, "So you really like to be alone?"

"Sometimes, yes, absolutely," she answered. "Don't you ever need to just be by yourself?"

"Sure," he replied, "But not a lot, not all the time."

"Well, I am one those people who needs more time alone than other people, that's all."

They dropped the subject and rode on till they came to a rise. Nick dismounted to get a better look at some fencing inside some brambles down in a gulch below. Emily watched him as he emerged and walked up the steep hill to Coco, and she handed him his reins.

As they started off, he asked her what she wanted for Christmas.

"Nothing," was her answer.

"Oh, come on!" he said, "There must be something you've been wanting!"

"Not really, Nick," she stated, "What do _you_ want?"

He looked at her, not smiling, and said, "You know what I want," and then he watched her reaction.

A shadow flickered across her face and she looked stricken for a brief moment. She had not expected to be confronted with his pursuit on this day but she gained control of her expression and said, kindly, "Well, I'm sorry, but you're not going to get that, at least, not now," and with that, she spurred Blackie on ahead.

Nick caught up to her, grabbed her reins, stopping them both, and declared, "Em, you better give me some ideas for a Christmas gift for you or you're getting riding boots!"

"Okay! Okay!" she said, laughing. She looked up at the sky and thought a moment, turned to him and said, "I could use a supply of good coffee. I like chocolate, and I could always use new sewing needles or thimbles. A bottle of brandy would be nice."

"All boring," he said mock anger.

She shrugged her shoulders and said, "You asked."


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19.

Although she had returned to sleeping at her own home, Emily continued to spend much of her time with Sarah. Emily knew that even when grief's shock starts to lift, the grief itself doesn't go away.

Some acquaintances had extended invitations to Christmas parties, all of which Emily declined in order to be with Sarah. While she was genuinely concerned for her friend, she was also relieved to have a legitimate excuse not to participate in the social whirl of Christmas festivities. She had a lot on her mind and did not welcome diversion.

Nick and Heath's visits to town were frequent: Heath to be with Sarah, and Nick with the hope of seeing Emily, which was usually met. There were a few dinners out, and Emily helped him with his Christmas shopping. She did allow Heath and Sarah to talk her into coming to the ranch for Christmas supper, after they assured her they would have made their announcement by then.

One morning, several days before Christmas, as Emily sat between the warm stove and the table in the tiny space which served as a kitchen, she heard a knock at the front door. No one ever knocked on her door so she ignored it, assuming she – or the person who knocked – was mistaken. But there was a second knock and when she reached the front room, she saw Sarah standing on the other side of the glass, looking grim.

Emily quickly unbolted the door and brought her friend into the shop, then bolted the door shut again.

Emily asked no questions. She watched and waited as Sarah collected her thoughts.

"Emily, I've decided to go to Sacramento, live with my aunt until I can . . . I called off the wedding."

This was surprising news. Sarah had not mentioned this possibility and Emily took a moment to reflect on its implications.

"And Heath knows this?" she asked.

Sarah nodded her head. "I've been talking about it for a couple of weeks and the more I think about it, the more sense it makes." Her words were measured but her tone barely controlled, and there were tears welling up in her eyes.

Emily had not disapproved of Sarah marrying so soon after her mother's death but she had wondered if the decision to do so had been borne of grief and desperation. She shared this thought to which Sarah nodded her head vigorously.

"And what does Heath say?" Emily asked.

"He tried to talk me out of it at first," Sarah explained, "But I think he understands."

"I think Heath wants to be your hero," Emily said, smiling into her friend's face.

Sarah smiled back and said, "Heath _is_ my hero. So are you," and she kissed Emily on the cheek.

"Sacramento isn't so far away," Emily pointed out. She took her friend's hand and brought her into the warm kitchen and sat her on the one chair, bringing another one from the dressing room, and set it where the table entered the hallway.

There, the two friends sat and talked. They talked about Sarah's aunt, who wasn't really an aunt but a good of her mother's, and the opportunities for her in Sacramento. Sarah told her about Heath's pledge to court her there. Sarah said she did love Heath, and she did want to marry him, and though she was calling off the wedding for now, she had no intention of waiting three years.

Sarah stopped herself from saying more at that point and reached her hand out to Emily who was processing whether she should be hurt or offended by the comment.

Sarah quickly offered that the death of a mother is not the same as the death of a husband. But Emily's thoughts were elsewhere.

Had it really been three years since Sam died? Yes, almost. It had been two years, ten months, and some days. Always, his death had felt both a long time ago and also very recent. Lately, though, it mostly felt a long time ago.

"Three years is a long time, isn't it?" Emily asked Sarah.

Sarah looked at her friend and replied, "Three years is a very long time."


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20.

Sarah stayed at the Barkley Ranch over the Christmas holiday, she and Heath treasuring their last days together before she left Stockton for Sacramento.

Early in the afternoon of Christmas Day, Nick brought Emily out to the ranch in the buggy and she marveled at the empty streets as they left town. On her lap, she held a large flat box, wrapped in white paper, and tied with a red ribbon. Nick asked if the gift was for him and she simply said, "No."

Silence followed.

Then she stated, "I have yours tucked away."

The house was filled with the kind of relaxed happiness felt on Christmas; Gifts had been given and received and everyone was filled with the expressed love of one another. Emily thought that in itself was sacred.

There were warm greetings all around with Emily sharing a particularly warm embrace with her friend, Sarah.

To Victoria, she presented the wrapped gift which carried a paper tag reading "For The Barkleys."

Victoria sat to unwrap and open the box, and from beneath the folded paper she pulled out a tablecloth of Honiton lace. She gasped loudly and said, "Emily! Please tell me you didn't make this!"

"I cannot tell you that," Emily teased, trying to be lighthearted to spite the blush she knew she was showing.

"Why, this must have taken you all year to make!" Victoria said, not taking her eyes off the tablecloth.

"Well," Emily replied, "Not the entire year." (She had started it in June).

The women ooh'd and aah'd and the men mentally scratched their heads, trying to understand how a person might make such a thing. Or why.

Victoria insisted the tablecloth be used for that very Christmas supper and carried it into the dining room, calling to Silas to help remove all the place settings. Audra, Sarah, and Emily followed her and helped and then placed the lace tablecloth over the solid linen one. To Emily's relief, it fit perfectly. As the four women were finishing re-setting the table, Jarrod came to the entrance and told his mother that Emily's gift from the family was ready.

Emily did not expect a gift from the family; Emily did not _want_ a gift from the family. The very thought of it embarrassed her.

The four women walked down the short hallway and entered the parlor to find Nick standing by the hallway table. On the table was a potted tree, about three feet tall, bearing a silver bow.

"It's an orange tree," he explained, "For your garden when you have one. You can keep it here or in a sunny window until then."

The embarrassment Emily dreaded never occurred for she was overcome with the thoughtfulness of the gift. She stood with a hand covering her open mouth, staring at the faith and promise this living thing held for her.

There were smiles and glances all around, which Emily didn't notice at all. Nick moved closer to her, cleared his throat, and said quietly, "Uh, you should probably say something."

"I love it!" she said breathlessly and Nick noticed her eyes were shining with tears. After a moment, she looked around the room and thanked each member of the family, then she walked around the table, admiring her tree some more.

Victoria smiled at her middle son who was watching Emily enjoy her gift. Jarrod walked over to him, slapped his shoulder, and said, "Nicholas, I think your idea was a success!"

After supper, Emily and Audra took turns playing the piano, mostly Christmas songs. Heath and Sarah slipped away to a quiet corner.

When it was time to return home – Emily declined the offer of a guest room for the night – she decided the tree should remain at the ranch, "for now," and Nick took her home in the buggy.

On the ride home, she asked if he minded all the buggy rides back and forth between their homes. The question surprised him and he quickly looked over at her before looking ahead again.

"'Course not!" he replied, and he leaned sideways to bump her playfully.

"I love my tree, Nick," she said.

He laughed. "I know! For a minute there, I thought you were going to faint!"

She laughed at that and said, "For a minute there, I thought so, too!"

After a silent moment, Nick asked, "Did you really make that tablecloth?"

She turned and looked at him and asked, in mock anger, "What do you mean, did I really make that tablecloth?"

"Well?" He was smiling.

"Of course I did!" she exclaimed. "If I didn't, I'd be lying, and I do not lie."

"Well," he remarked, stammering a little bit, "It's just, I mean, how do you do that?" He was thinking of all the intricate patterns and stitches.

"It's magic," she said, and she leaned sideways to bump him playfully.

Nick pulled the buggy up near Emily's shop, stopping a short distance from her door in order to sit under a street lamp. There, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a small, wrapped box, and held it out to her.

She didn't take it. She reached into her coat pocket and brought out a slightly larger package which she held out to him.

They exchanged gifts, each one insisting the other open his or hers first.

Nick gave in, grumbling about how stubborn she was and unwrapped the gift.

It was a hand bound book with linen pages, the title reading, "For Nick Barkley, in deepest gratitude for sharing his valley. Emily Jane Barrett Powell, 1878." The frontispiece contained a pressed orange poppy affixed to the page with glue.

"I picked that the day you and your mother and I went to see the orchards and we had that picnic by the stream. Remember?" she asked.

"I remember, " Nick said, lost in the memory, and gently touching the flower.

Upon the pages, Emily had written out her favorite quotes and poems.

"So maybe you can figure out why I'm so odd," she said, smiling.

Nick wasn't smiling, though. He was paging through the book, stopping to read various entries, all written in the neat legible handwriting he knew to be hers. The last page contained a pencil drawing of Coco.

"I don't know what to say," he said, still looking at the pages, "You made this?"

"Yes," she said, "Just say 'Thank you'"

"Thank you," he said, shifting his attention to his gift to her, "Open it."

It looked like a jewelry box and Emily prayed it wasn't a ring, or diamonds, or rubies, or anything else to which social convention would attach great significance.

It was a brooch, about two inches in diameter, an enameled rendering of a delphinium floret in cornflower blue punctuated by a moonstone in its center. It was perfect: Small enough that she would wear it and not so precious as to stir up comment. Or obligation.

"Nick, it's beautiful!" she said, and asked him to pin it on her dress.

As he did so, he told her how he had the brooch custom made for her in San Francisco. That was a bit too much for her; that this was not something he simply saw in a store and purchased, and she looked at him, though he didn't notice. But then she stopped to consider that this was Nick's effort at personalizing a gift. This was his book of thoughts he wrote for her.

They sat in the buggy, illuminated by the street lamp, and kissed for a very long time.

Emily struggled with her feelings for the next several days. Nick had shown her a truly thoughtful side of himself, and he had remained respectful of her of her desire for space and time. He had not pressured her at all. And, frankly, he made her weak in the knees.

Still, she didn't think she could marry him and it was unfair to continue to spend time with him. She couldn't give him children and she wasn't ready to marry anyone again.

Then again, he _was_ giving her the time and space she felt she needed. He also made her heart flutter and her knees goes weak.

And so it continued in her head and in her heart for days on end.

After Christmas, Audra traveled to spend time with Carl's family outside of Merced.

Heath and Emily helped Sarah pack up the house and Heath saw her off on the train to Sacramento the day before New Year's Eve. He had plans to visit her on New Year's Day, two days later.

Emily declined all invitations to New Year's Eve parties, including the one at the Barkley Ranch.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21.

The second day of the New Year, a Thursday, dawned cold and overcast. Emily posted the "OPEN" sign in the window but didn't expect any customers now that the holidays were over.

So she settled into her rocking chair with her sewing, a cup of hot tea within reach. It was a good day for tea, she decided, and her thoughts turned to Sarah, wishing her all good things and knowing she would miss her.

Suddenly the door flew open with a great clatter and chime from the bell and Nick entered, Nick style, and announced, "Glory's gonna foal, you wanna come?"

Startled out of her cozy morning, perplexed by her feelings for Nick, and really wanting to watch Glory foal, Emily fled upstairs to pull on her riding breeches, coat, and bonnet without saying a word.

She was tying her bonnet under her chin when she came downstairs. Nick was standing at the counter, drumming his fingers on it.

"Well, good morning to you, too!" he said, smiling and teasing her.

She smiled at him, "I'm sorry, Nick. Good morning. And, yes, I would love to see Glory foal."

Outside, Coco and Blackie stood waiting for their people. Emily buttoned her coat completely and pulled on her gloves. Nick helped her up and into the saddle on Blackie.

They rode in silence, subdued by the winter sky as well as by their own feelings for each other: Emily's confusion of staunch reluctance, affection, and desire and Nick's own confusion of affection, admiration, and impatience.

Once out of town and on the road to the ranch, Nick broke the silence by declaring, "Well, it sure is going to be an interesting year!"

"Oh?" asked Emily.

"Audra and Carl are getting married!" He looked at her. "They announced their engagement New Year's Eve."

"Nick! That's wonderful!" she was genuinely happy for the couple.

"I'm surprised you didn't know," he said. "I thought by now Audra would have told everyone in the valley. She's off to visit friends today, to tell them."

Emily laughed and told him, "Nick, you're my best source for Barkley news. I am very happy for them. Have they set a date?"

"June," Nick said, and added, "I don't remember the exact date but Audra and Mother are all full of plans."

"And you're in favor of this match, yes?" she asked, trying to get a reading on his feelings.

"Absolutely," he said, "though I guess I won't be seeing my little sister quite as much."

If at all, Emily thought. Yes, it was going to be an interesting year at the Barkley Ranch.

When they reached her, Glory was restless, twitching her tail, and beginning to sweat. As her restlessness increased and she began to paw the ground, the hands started moving the other horses out of the stable and away from her. Emily helped them, just as she had helped her brother, Frank, so many times before.

Glory would lie down, then get up again, and then get down again. When her water broke, she laid herself down with her backside pressed to a wall. Emily moved forward to coax her away so to give enough room for the foal to be born. Nick said to leave her to her own devices and Emily argued that Glory might not think to leave room for her foal. Nick pointed out that this was not his first such experience, and Emily shot back that it wasn't her first experience, either.

One of the newer hands, standing nearby remarked, "Oh, y'all sound like an old married couple. Don't know why y'all ain't married already."

Nick's anger flashed as he glared at Emily and said loudly, "Why doncha ask her!" Emily glared back at him, saying nothing. With that, several of the hands drifted quietly out of the stable. Nick and Emily stepped back to let Glory be.

They stood side by side against the wall of the stable, watching Glory struggle.

"Nick," Emily hissed, "I already told you. I'm not ready and I can't have babies," and, for emphasis, she extended her arm towards Glory, who clearly could.

"Well, I am and I don't care!" he hissed back at her.

She turned to face him. "Nick! You may not care now, but what about five, ten, twenty years from now when Jarrod, Heath, and even Audra have all these little Barkleys running around the ranch and you have none?" She was no longer talking in stage whisper, but in a normal tone, pleading.

"And I'm telling you I don't care!" Nick said a little too loudly.

"And I don't believe that! Not for one minute!" Her voice was raised. "You mean to tell me that Nick Barkley, Ruler of the Barkley Empire," she held her arms out expansively, "would be perfectly content to watch Jarrod Junior, or Heath Junior run this ranch and inherit all its holdings? You would be happy about that?"

She was close to tears but was not about to give Nick that power. They watched silently for a moment as the foal's hooves and head appeared and, not taking his eyes from the emerging life, Nick calmly stated, "I don't care."

"And I don't believe that," she replied, with equal calm.

The foal emerged completely and Nick helped to open the sac. Some of the hands returned to see the new life.

Victoria came and joined the group and together they watched for a long time until they saw the foal stand. Then Victoria told Nick and Emily it was time for lunch.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22.

Lunch was tense with Nick and Emily saying very little and avoiding each other. Jarrod and Victoria made their best efforts to make table conversation and lighten the general mood, but their efforts proved futile. When the meal was finished, Jarrod announced he had work to do in town that afternoon. It was a lie. Victoria said she thought she would accompany him as she had some errands to do in town. That, too, was a lie. They stood, politely excused themselves from the quiet table, left the room and, moments later, the house.

Nick sat back in his chair, arms folded across his chest, and looked across the table at Emily.

Emily had spent most of the entire meal with her eyes downcast, rarely looking up to avoid making eye contact with Nick. When she heard the front door open and close, she looked up and met Nick's glare.

"If you'll excuse me," she said curtly but calmly as she stood, placing her napkin gently on the table. Nick watched her as she walked around the table, past him, and exited the room. She was heading for the piano. She wanted to pound on it. Maybe Beethoven.

Nick got up from the table when she left the room and followed her down the short hall. Taking long, fast strides, he quickly caught up with her and grabbed her by the arm which caused her to stop, turn, and face him.

"We need to talk this out, Emily. Here and now and for good," he said tensely but released her arm. She turned away and continued walking into the parlor where she stopped and turned to him again, still standing in the hallway.

"Nick, I'm telling you, I'm not ready." Her voice was breaking.

"And I'm telling you you're a coward!" he stated loudly, almost shouting.

"I am not!" She meant to sound defiant, but she was starting to cry and the statement made her sound like a petulant child.

Nick marched into the parlor and stood close enough to touch her but he didn't. Instead, he pointed at the air, and at her, and shouted, "YES! YOU ARE A COWARD! YOU'RE AFRAID OF PARTIES, AFRAID OF PEOPLE, AFRAID OF ANYTHING NEW, ANYTHING OUTSIDE OF YOUR OWN COCOON! YOU'RE AFRAID OF LIFE!"

"Nick," she pleaded, only one tear had slipped out, and she was trying very hard to maintain calm and reason. "I don't think I'm ready and I don't think you mean what you say. I think with Heath and Sarah so close to marriage, and Audra's engagement, you're – "

He interrupted her and he was still shouting.

"NO! THIS ISN'T ABOUT HEATH OR AUDRA OR ANYBODY ELSE! AND IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH ANY FUTURE CHILDREN, WHOEVER THEY BELONG TO! THIS IS ABOUT YOU AND ME!" He then pointed at her and repeated, "YOU," and back at himself, "AND ME!."

Emily started towards The Billiards Room to move the shouting away from Silas and anyone else who might be able to hear.

"DON'T YOU WALK AWAY FROM ME!" He was shouting even louder now.

She stopped, turned around, and walked back into the parlor. He can shout all he wants, she thought, it won't change a thing, and I will hold firm. But she was shattered by his anger, by this argument. She really wanted to cry but she didn't; crying would undermine her position.

They stood looking at each other silently, each one hurt.

Nick walked over to the table that held the liquor decanters and she watched him intently. As he poured himself a glass of whisky, he calmly stated, "I should know better than to fall in love with a married woman." Then he drained the whisky down his throat and slammed the empty glass down on the table.

"What?" asked Emily, barely audible.

He walked over to her, standing very close, straightened himself up as tall as he could, looked down at her and stated, "You're still married to Sam Powell."

He held her gaze for a moment then walked over to the coat rack, grabbed his jacket and gun belt.

Emily continued watching him in stunned silence. She watched him as he strapped on his gun belt and put on his jacket.

When he was done, he picked up his hat and looked at her.

Calmly, he told her, "You know, I can fight a Joe Finch or any other cowpoke who catches your eye, but I can't fight a ghost."

And with that, he put on his hat, turned on his heel and walked out of the house, slamming the door shut behind him.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23.

She could not remember how long she stood still in the parlor after Nick left and she could not fully remember even getting her bonnet and coat and leaving the house. What she did remember was the echoing vibration of the door's slam. And her desperate need to escape, her need to be in her own home.

She also remembered every word he said to her because they repeated in her mind like the chorus of a sad song.

Alone on the bridle path, with no one to see, she cried. She cried out of hurt and frustration and loss. She cried out of her own bruised pride. He had called her a coward for being afraid of change and maybe he was right in a way. Perhaps she was too protective of her past and trying too hard to keep Sam's memory alive in her heart.

She still thought about Sam daily but over the past months those thoughts had occupied less time with each passing day. She also found herself struggling to remember the smaller details about him that had so pained her in that first year of mourning. And now when she was able to remember the details, the pain was not so acute anymore.

And then she realized that, while she had truly loved Sam and had mourned his death, she was no longer living in his memory. Nick said he couldn't fight a ghost and her heart filled with a fierce pain because she now understood that that was exactly what she had been making him do.

She wondered if she would ever have the chance to tell Nick he was right and that she was ready now to face the world without Sam.

For a fleeting moment, she thought she heard hoof beats but when she listened closely all she heard was the sound of the wind howling through the trees.

Emily guessed she had been walking for about an hour, maybe hour and a half, and she yearned to be home. She was tired and her feet were cold and they hurt. Even her bonnet had soaked through and she could feel the cold rain on her head. The rain and mud had wicked up her skirt and petticoats, weighing them down, gluing them together, and making each step difficult. She hoped to be home soon.

Nick had left the house and went straight to Coco, saddled up, and rode away from the ranch at a full gallop to match his fury. He rode till he got to the far reaches of the west pasture and rode the fences there to distract himself. He knew he had acted harshly, said some hurtful things, and yelling at Emily had certainly not helped. But he considered her steadfast position to his anger and wanted to believe it was an indication that, despite the quarrel, she might still be willing to discuss the matter again. Later, maybe in a few days, they would both be calm and rational and maybe she might agree to a commitment short of an engagement.

He was angry with himself. He had been impatient and prone to angry outbursts all his life and now, when it mattered the most to him, he had allowed that part of him to hurt someone he really cared about, someone who could vanish from his life because of it.

He would make it up to her, he decided, if she would let him.

He returned to the ranch after an hour or so and when he entered the house, he called her name with as much tenderness as he could contain within his usual shout. There was no response. He called her name up the stairs and waited and there was no responding sound except from Silas who had just entered from the back hallway.

"Silas! Have you seen Emily?" he asked.

Silas said the last time he'd seen her, "Miz Emily was with you," but Nick was bounding up the stairs before Silas finished his sentence.

Thinking Emily had decided to lie down – that's what women do when they're upset – he knocked softly on the door to the guest room, opened it, and found the room empty. He checked Audra's room, his mother's room, he even checked his own room, knowing propriety would prevent her from entering, never mind lying on his bed.

He was out of ideas and started down the stairs, puzzled and worried, when his thoughts were interrupted by Silas's observation.

"Mr. Nick, her coat and bonnet are gone," and he pointed at the coat rack by the grandfather clock.

"WELL, WHERE IN THE BLAZES DID SHE GO?" he demanded loudly of no one and headed out the door for the stables again.

The rain was falling diagonally and there was sleet mixed in with the torrents. Nick found Blackie warm and resting snug in her stall.

Out of ideas as to where Emily had vanished, he leaned against the frame of an open stable door and stared out at the rain.

A few ranch hands passed by him, scurrying to get out of the weather, and greeted Nick who barely acknowledged them. One of them said something about the new foal. Another said, "Say, Nick, Mrs. Powell must be having a hell of a time walking back to town in this downpour," and nodded his head towards the road that led away from the ranch.

Poor Coco hardly had a chance to settle in before he was saddled up to carry Nick away again.

The bridle path splintered off from the main road some distance from the entrance to the ranch and Nick was pleased with himself for knowing this would be the route Emily would take. He didn't know why or how he knew, he just did, and he spurred Coco into a fast trot, keeping his eyes focused ahead.

The path was by now very muddy, littered with leaves and branches, and there were large, deep puddles everywhere. The wind continued to blow debris onto the path, though the rain had started to let up some.

Nick rode on for twenty, maybe thirty, minutes and he began to wonder if perhaps she had taken the main road into town, after all. He thought he would have seen her by now. But he remained on the path and, coming to a rise in the path that offered a good view of the terrain ahead, he stopped.

Some distance before him he saw the slight figure of the woman, blue bonnet, gray coat, walking with purpose, the vision of her softened by the thousand rain drops between them. He watched as a gust of wind pitched her sideways making her stumble slightly and he remembered the day he met her and his thought that a strong wind could probably knock her to the ground.

Then he spurred Coco to his fastest gallop.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24.

There was no denying that sound; she knew it was Nick before she turned to confirm it. She hadn't thought to see him so soon! She hadn't thought at all of what she would say to him, how she would put words to her new feelings, and she wasn't ready to see him now.

She continued walking, she even tried to walk faster though that was difficult. And silly, futile. She stopped and stood still as Nick and Coco overtook her.

"ARE YOU CRAZY? ARE YOU INSANE?" he yelled at her. He turned Coco to block her path, shouting at her, "WHAT THE HELL COULD YOU HAVE BEEN THINKING?" as he dismounted.

Nick's shouting at her didn't bother her; his anger didn't upset her. She wasn't even stirred when he grabbed her shoulders and demanded that she never run away. All she was capable of in that moment was searching his face and saying, "I'm so sorry, Nick. I'm so sorry," as the tears welled up in her eyes again.

Something had changed in her. Something had thawed and he recognized it immediately. Even with damp curls falling out of her wet, limp bonnet and the tip of her nose red from the cold wind, she presented a delicate beauty. No matter she was mostly drenched and splattered with mud, she took his breath away.

He pulled her in close and wrapped his arms around her, sensing her emotional fragility and knowing she must be very cold. With her hands clenched under her chin, she relaxed her head against his chest, and sighed deeply.

Then she started to cry. She cried hard and for a long time and still he didn't let her go, he only tightened his hold.

As the crying subsided, she pulled back slowly, but only as far as he would allow.

She looked up at him and said quietly, "Nick, I'm so sorry," she said, "You were right, I _have_ been making you fight a ghost." Tears were falling down her face but she didn't hide them this time, she continued to look into his eyes. He cupped her face in his gloved hand and wiped away the tears and rain from her cheek with his thumb. "And I am . . . I have been afraid of change."

Nick said nothing but waited for a little more.

"I've been living with a ghost and using him as a shield to protect me because I am - was afraid." Hearing her own words only confirmed to her that she was ready now to live her life fully and without Sam.

"And you're no longer afraid?" he asked.

She frowned, thinking, and said, "No. Yes. But I think I can face my fears."

"Maybe you'll let me be your shield? I'm no ghost but . . ."

He stopped when she nodded her head.

With that, he slipped his hand from her cheek to her chin, lifted it, and kissed her.

They stood locked in their kiss, the wind and the rain unnoticed, ignored. When they loosened their embrace, it was slow and deliberate.

"Come on," he said, softly, "Let's go back to the house."

He helped her get up on Coco and pushed the wet skirts covering the saddle up closer to her. He climbed into the saddle behind her, very close, holding the reins in one hand and using his other arm to keep her close against his body.

Little was said on the ride back to the house. He held her tight and she nestled her head against his shoulder. As they approached the main gate to the house, he leaned his head down so is mouth was near her ear and asked, very softly, "Emily, will you marry me?"

She reached her hand back to touch his face, nodded, and then she said, "Yes."


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25.

Victoria and Jarrod returned from town to find the house empty and quiet.

Victoria remarked that she couldn't imagine where Nick and Emily might have gone to in such weather. Jarrod responded that he saw Blackie in her stall but hadn't thought to look for Coco.

Victoria asked Silas if he knew where Nick and Emily were and he answered that he did not. It was the truth; he did not know. However, he did not share that he had heard shouting, name calling, and doors slamming. The man kept this particular worry to himself and left the room so Victoria wouldn't be able to read it on his face.

Jarrod sifted through the mail brought in from town, then sat down with the newspaper, and Victoria settled into the loveseat to finish her book. The only sounds were the ticking of the grandfather clock, the wind pelting rain against the glass doors, and the occasional hiss and crackle from the fire in the fireplace.

Some time later, the quiet rhythm was broken by the sound of the front door opening. Victoria looked up and there she saw Nick, then Emily, enter. Both were drenched and cold.

She dropped her book on the table in front of and started forward, out of her seat, exclaiming, "Nick! – Emily!"

They looked somber and serious but there was something else in their faces, too. Nick stood a few steps behind Emily and as Victoria drew near, he gently pushed Emily forward to Victoria's outstretched arms.

Victoria put her arm around Emily, casting an admonishing look at Nick, and, walking Emily toward the staircase, said, "Come, let's get you upstairs and into some dry clothes."

Silas had entered from the kitchen and Victoria asked him to please bring hot tea to her room. He might have returned to the kitchen immediately but Nick had taken off his wet hat and jacket and was tossing them on the table. Swiftly, Silas removed them, clucking something about water stains, and he put the hat and jacket on the coat rack before disappearing to make tea. Nick ignored him as his attentions were focused on the women climbing the stairs.

"Nick?" Jarrod asked, now standing close and holding out a glass of whisky. Nick took the glass and drained it.

"You, uh, want to talk about it?" Jarrod asked.

"Not now," Nick replied, and he bounded up the stairs to his room.

Victoria brought Emily to her own room and lit a large fire in its fireplace. There, on the hearth, Victoria helped Emily remove her gloves, bonnet, and coat and draped them over nearby furniture.

Hot tea arrived at the door and Victoria brought the tray in before continuing to help Emily. Boots and stockings were removed and Emily's dress, its skirt, collar, and sleeve cuffs soaked through, was peeled off and tossed onto the floor. After that, her riding breeches, and several petticoats, all heavy with wet mud, were removed and left on the floor atop the dress. Emily was undressed to her corset, pantaloons, and chemise. Victoria opened a drawer in one of the dressers and brought out a thick wool blanket which she wrapped around Emily and sat her down in a large chair in front of the fire. Then she poured the tea.

Emily had said nothing except to tell Victoria that Nick was not to blame for her being out in the storm. Victoria was almost afraid to know what had happened and a hundred different possibilities came to her mind, few of them good.

She sat on a low table behind Emily's chair and started to take down her hair, wet on the top of her head, damp in some places, and bone dry underneath. It was longer and curlier than Victoria had imagined.

"How on earth do you get a brush through this?" she asked.

Emily laughed a little and said, "I don't," then demonstrated how she combed it out with outstretched fingers. The strategy worked.

Emily was reviving from whatever trauma had occurred and Victoria took the opening and, now seated facing the young woman, asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I'm not really sure I can explain it," Emily said, and sat quiet for a moment trying to find the words to convey the sea change that had occurred inside of her. She looked at Victoria and told her how she and Nick had argued and how she had come to realize some truths about herself. She explained how she had grown comfortable in her widowhood and used it to justify her fear of change. She told Victoria that Nick had asked to her to marry him and that she had said yes.

Victoria had not expected this outcome and Emily could see on her face, first the surprise and then the delight at the news. Victoria held Emily in a long embrace and said she could not be more pleased about it. She meant it.

Victoria then gathered up the pile of wet, muddy clothes and said, "I'll be back in a moment. We'll get you dressed and then have some dinner."

She slipped down the back stairs and deposited Emily's clothes in a room off the kitchen where laundry was washed. Walking back through the main house, she stopped as she passed Jarrod in the parlor. Jarrod had worried and wondered what had happened and looked at his mother, expecting an answer to the mystery.

"I don't know the entire story," she said, thoughtfully, "But I believe I'm getting another daughter soon. Oh, and dinner shortly," and she walked towards the staircase, leaving Jarrod even more puzzled.

As she climbed the stairs, she met Nick coming down. He was now clean, and warm, and dry, and he looked happy. They stopped mid-way on the staircase and Victoria addressed him, her smile telling him that she knew Emily had said yes.

"Nick, what, what did - I mean, how – what happened?"

He smiled triumphantly at his mother, pointed his finger for emphasis, and said, "I pushed!" and then continued down the stairs and into the parlor.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26.

Emily stayed in the guest room of the great house for the next few days, sleeping in the plushest, softest bed she'd ever known. She wore Victoria's clothes, a better fit for her than Audra's, while she waited for her own to be laundered and fully dried.

The first night, she drafted a letter to her father telling him her news. She knew he would share it with her brothers. She had written about the Barkleys, even about Nick, in previous letters but she had only intimated about the blossoming romance so she felt her letter needed to include some reason, some justification, for her decision. The letter was surprisingly easy for her to write and putting her feelings and understandings to paper confirmed what she had recently come to realize.

She felt now she was able to see herself better than she had in a long time. She thought and re-thought what life on the Barkley Ranch would be for her. And the more she thought about it, the better it seemed to fit.

She and Nick spent a lot of time talking about expectations and desires and the future. Emily talked about Sam and about her new understanding of how being his sweetheart, then his wife, and then his widow had defined her for so long. They talked about marriage to each other and what that meant. They talked about adopting children.

Emily said she didn't want a house of her own. She wanted to remain in the main house, partly because she didn't want to be lonely (and there was enough room to be alone) and partly to enjoy having Victoria as a mother (something she never had). Nick was privately relieved by her decision and Victoria delighted, especially since Audra would be leaving soon.

The day Nick returned her to her shop, she was wearing the clothes she had left in but was returning as a changed person. The shop felt somewhat foreign to her. It was also very cold and Nick lit the stove for her. It was his first visit to her tiny kitchen and he found its size astonishing. If it seemed small before, Nick's presence in it made it seem Lilliputian.

While her shop warmed up, they ate dinner at the Cattlemen's Hotel, and afterwards, as they strolled the streets and looked in shop windows, Nick turned to her and proclaimed, "We have to get you an engagement ring!"

"Nick, I don't want a ring," she told him.

"Well, you have to have a ring!" he said in his Nick Barkley Voice of Declaration.

"Why?" Is there a law?" she teased. "Really, Nick, I don't want or need a ring. Just a simple wedding band will do."

He stood and looked at her a moment, then demanded, "Well, what _do_ you want?"

Emily knit her brow and thought about it a moment, then looked up at him and said, "Riding boots."


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27.

They were married in March. The wedding was a small and simple affair conducted by a Justice of the Peace in the parlor of the Barkley house and attended only by family and a very few friends. Carl and Sarah were present and the guest of honor was Judge Andrew Barrett who had traveled from Ohio to give his daughter away in marriage for a second time.

Emily wore the lavender silk dress she'd worn for Audra's Bon Voyage party. In her hair she wore orange blossoms and on her feet she wore the most beautiful custom-made riding boots she had ever seen.

Judge Barrett found San Francisco too rowdy for his taste and Stockton a little primitive but he felt at home on the Barkley Ranch. He thoroughly enjoyed his tour of the orchards, the vineyards, the stables, the herd, and remarked frequently on the grandeur of the land, the mountains in the distance. He thought it all glorious and it helped him to understand why his daughter chose to make California her home.

He was impressed with Jarrod's legal prowess, thought Carl and Heath to be fine young men, and Audra a lovely young woman.

Victoria impressed the judge most of all. This was a woman of character and he delighted in the stories she told about his daughter, and about her son. He deduced from the tales that the matriarch herself had taken his daughter under her wing and he was deeply grateful that his daughter should finally have such a mother.

His new son-in-law, however, was remarkably different from himself and from his previous son-in-law, as well, and it took the judge a little time to warm to him. Nick was outspoken, forthright, decisive, but had a strong sense of justice and the judge came to like him very much. Nick appreciated his father-in-law's intelligence and humor. Emily was a lot like her father whether she recognized it or not and the two men formed a strong bond based on a shared love and respect for Emily, which each man recognized in the other. The judge returned to Ohio with no worries about his daughter's future in California.

Nick and Emily honeymooned in a mountain lodge that had been prepared and stocked ahead of time for them. They hardly noticed the snow outside.

Audra's wedding in June was a large and lavish affair, also held at the house, but attended by all of Stockton society and other Californians of social and political importance. She and Carl honeymooned in San Francisco, then settled down near Merced, on land he purchased to be nearer to his family.

Heath and Sarah continued to see each other and their engagement wasn't announced as much as it was assumed. They set a vague wedding date for the fall when they expected their house to be completed. Emily was glad to soon have a friend close by on the ranch.

Jarrod, too, had begun seeing Meg Travis again and Emily thought they made a good couple.

Susannah married Joseph Finch, the librarian, and they moved to Gilroy.

In some ways, Emily's life was little changed by the marriage: Silas now called her Miz Nick and she gained a little weight from dining every night at the house, though eating the rich foods sometimes made her queasy. But she continued to practice the piano, help Silas or Victoria with dinner, go riding alongside Nick, and enjoy sewing small, even stitches. She even continued to enjoy her rocking chair, now kept in the room she shared with Nick.


	28. Chapter 28

**EPILOGUE**

On a hot Tuesday in late July, Emily tried to approach Victoria several times but Victoria was preoccupied with a family legal issue. Emily waited for the proper moment.

The following day at breakfast, after the men had left for their various pursuits, Emily remained at the table with Victoria.

"Emily," said her mother-in-law, "I have the distinct impression that you would like to speak with me."

Emily opened her mouth to speak but no words came out.

"Emily," Victoria said, "If you don't tell me, I can't help you." Victoria prayed there were no problems between Nick and Emily. She had a strict hands-off policy regarding her children's marriages and if there were a problem, Nick and Emily would have to work it out themselves.

"I think I might be," Emily hesitated, and whispered almost inaudibly, "in a delicate condition.". She had dismissed the signs initially, attributing some to the full and regular meals at the house and others to frank exhaustion from sharing a bed with Nick Barkley.

Victoria was very good at containing her shock and she did so now. She sat quiet for a moment, then cleared her throat.

"Oh?" she said, "And how long since . . . "

"Since two weeks before the wedding," Emily replied.

"Emily!" she said, her shock showing now, "That's four - that's over four months!"

"I know! And I've never missed a month before, not ever." Emily looked very worried.

A realization was growing in Victoria's mind and she chided herself for not having thought of it before. A girl growing up without a mother and only brothers has little opportunity to learn the facts of life from a woman's perspective, if at all. Also, she was only eighteen when she married.

"Emily, who said that you can't have children?"

"Well, I was married for four years," she said and she thought that made it pretty obvious she couldn't have children.

"Yes, but who told you?"

"Well, no one," she said, then remembered, "I guess Sam did."

"I see," Victoria was starting to get excited at the possibility now presented, "Your twenty three year old husband informed his motherless eighteen year old bride that she was the reason they didn't have children?"

"Well, yes, I guess that's right." Emily remained mystified but had already started to harbor a growing suspicion about her previous marriage.

Victoria folded her hands in her lap, looked down thoughtfully, and smiled. She was a little surprised at Emily's lack of knowledge, though she understood why the young woman didn't know. She also knew Emily had a tendency to take on responsibilities and faults that were not rightly hers.

"Emily, you _do_ know it takes _two_ people, a man and a woman, yes?"

Emily blushed a deep scarlet and nodded her head. She now knew that Victoria shared the suspicion she didn't dare believe, not without confirmation.

"What I'm trying to say is, maybe Sam was the one who couldn't have children, not you."

The color drained from Emily's face and Victoria thought her daughter-in-law was going to fall out of her chair in a dead faint but she didn't.

The two women took the buggy into town that morning to pay a visit to Dr. Merar. Victoria asked if Emily had shared her suspicions with Nick.

"Oh, Good Heavens, no!" she said and they laughed.

Emily was mortified to be discussing such personal things with a man but understood the doctor might have the answers. First, though, he asked her some very specific questions about her body. Next, he pushed his hand into various places on her abdomen. He tried to listen to her abdomen with his stethoscope but said it might still be too early.

When he stood back up and put his stethoscope away, he said, "Emily, there are a lot of things I don't know but there are two things I do know with absolute certainty: One, it takes two people to create a baby, and Two," he pointed at her abdomen, "That is a baby."

Victoria could barely contain her joy and Emily was alternately stunned, frightened, and very excited by the news. She was also embarrassed by her own naivete. They shared a celebratory lunch at a restaurant and bought some fabric to alter Emily's dresses. They talked about various ways Emily could tell Nick.

But telling Nick about the pregnancy was the easy part.

She told him she had seen Dr. Merar that morning; he asked if she was all right, and she told him she was with child. It was as simple as that. But then she had to explain about the assumptions she had made. And that was the hardest part. Nick, however, was too busy being proud of his own virility to make an issue of his wife's all too common understanding about conception.

 **~O~**

Heath and Sarah were married in October at the courthouse in Stockton with only family present. They, too, honeymooned at the family's mountain lodge and witnessed the first mountain snowfall of the season.

 **~O~**

Christmas saw a very full house at the Barkley Ranch. Audra and Carl came for the holiday, with Audra barely showing though she was due in April. If Heath and Sarah had any such news, they didn't share it. Victoria presided over the Christmas dinner, pleased and proud of her growing family, and hoping Jarrod would soon bring a wife to the table, as well; the table that was covered with hand-made Honiton lace.

A few days after Christmas, Nick woke at his usual early hour to find Emily sitting up In a chair next to the bed, holding her belly and wincing.

"How long have you been sitting there and why didn't you wake me?" he asked, scolding.

"A few hours and I'm not having it right this minute. Everyone who can sleep should sleep," was her response.

Despite her protestations, he woke the entire household and sent a hand to fetch Dr. Merar.

Heath and Sarah came to the house: Sarah to sit with Emily and help as needed and Heath to try and distract Nick while they all waited. And waited. As the hours ticked by, Nick became edgier and unable to stand still. This was a new patience he found especially difficult to practice.

By late afternoon, Jarrod and Heath were purposely losing to Nick at billiards to keep him occupied. And then, even from The Billiards Room that unmistakable sound could be heard and Nick was already at the top of the stairs when the good doctor emerged from the room.

Not only could Emily have children, she did so very well. She came through labor without complication, and Dr. Merar got to boast that he was now physician to three generations of Barkleys: this first member of the third generation being Thomas Andrew Barkley, weighing in a respectable seven pounds and some ounces.

"With lungs like his father's," said Emily.

Nick was right when he pushed Emily and he was right again: It was indeed a very interesting year at the Barkley Ranch.


End file.
